
Book ^X^JH^B 

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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI 



T. FRANCIS 

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Mr attrtfr^^^e^ in %mt • By the 




Rev. J<Hf McILVAINE, D.D. 

CALVARY CHURCH • PITTSBURG, PA. 



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DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
NEW rORK ' MDCCCCII 










Copyright, 1902 
By Dodd, Mead and Company 



First Edition published April, 1902 






THE LtftRARY 
CONGRESS 

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MAR t?"1902 

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UNIVERSITY PRESS • JOHN WILSON 
AND SON • CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A, 






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TO 

IN WHOSE HOUSE THE WORK WAS DONE 
THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED 



^ 



NOTE 

The writer desires to acknowledge his 
indebtedness in preparing these addresses 
to the works of M. Paul Sabatier, Canon 
Knox Little, Professor John Herkless, as 
well as to the earlier writers on the life 
of St. Francis. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 

I. THE MAN AND THE TIMES . . 

n. THE CONVERSION OF A SINNER 

in. THE MAKING OF A SAINT . . 

IV. THE LABOURS OF AN APOSTLE 

V. THE SUFFERING SERVANT . . 

VI. SUCCESS AND FAILURE . . . 



PAGE 

I 

27 

47 

69 

103 

129 



St. Francis of Assisi 

I 

THE MAN AND THE TIMES 

The lives of the saints are not at- 
tractive to us. They seem unreal, 
wanting in flesh and blood, a cata- 
logue of impossible virtues, im- 
bedded in a mass of legendary and 
incredible material. But they are 
not all of this character. In every 
age there are records of saints who 
were men of like passions with our- 
selves, but who were saints in this, 
that they heard and responded to 
God's call, they put God supremely 



St, Francis of Assisi 

and unmistakably first in their lives. 
We have a really human knowledge 
of Basil, Augustine, Gregory, Chrys- 
ostom, Catharine of Siena, Francis 
of Assisi, derived from their own 
letters, or the testimony of their 
cotemporaries. 

We miss much of what is most 
worth having in life if we do not 
set apart a portion of our time to 
the study of the lives of the best in 
all generations. There we get what 
we can hardly get from any other 
form of literature; we see men as 
they actually were in the face of 
the common human temptations, 
trials, sorrows, that exist from age 
to age ; how they prayed and strug- 
gled and suffered; how they dared 
to look forward and hope ; and how, 
in spite of all, they, in a measure, 



The Man and the Times 

triumphed. The reading is full 
of encouragement, for our minds 
become stored, hke the scientific 
man's mind, with experiments, with 
the actual experience of Christian 
living; and it reinforces in us the 
sense that it is well worth while to 
be the best that we know. A man 
of profound moral insight has said: 
" When the best men cease trying 
the world drops backward like lead." 
When we look back on history we 
see how true that is. That which 
from time to time has raised the 
average level, which at all times 
keeps it from falling, is the influence 
of the best, those who have given 
all for all. They are the salt of the 
earth. The world half dislikes and 
is half afraid of them, but with- 
out knowing it is partly ashamed, 

3 



St. Francis of Assisi 

partly encouraged, into rising a little 
way above what it would otherwise 
be. If we want to play our part in 
the world, to maintain the level from 
falling, and help it to rise a little, 
we can do it only by being the best 
that we know, obedient to the inner 
voice, true to the heavenly vision. 

The lives of the saints are also of 
great value as a spiritual study, be- 
cause they help us to accept God's 
will, and to gather fresh vigour for 
His glory. In such lives the truth 
is not merely written, it is seen in 
action. It is not easy to realise the 
truth of things ; so it is helpful to 
study the actual lives of those who 
lived the truth. The teachings of 
Christ seem to us impractical and 
impossible until we see them acted 
out in a way that is marvellous, with 

4 



The Man and the Times 

a Hteralness that is startling, in the 
lives of men like, and yet so unlike, 
ourselves. We have drifted into the 
habit of half believing that the grace 
and power of Christ are confined to 
the New Testament, and that great 
sanctity is to be found only among 
His immediate followers. We meas- 
ure things by the low standard of 
the customary and the common- 
place, until there flashes upon us 
the high standard of the saints. 
Then in some measure we see and 
feel the greatness and the beauty 
of a true servant of God, and it 
makes us ashamed of our earthly 
views, our self-seeking ways, our 
often merely conventional religious 
forms. 

I have chosen St. Francis as the 
subject of these lectures because he 

5 



St. Francis of Assisi 

was pre-eminently the saint of the 
middle ages ; and because, thanks 
to reliable documents, and the sift- 
ing work of historical criticism, we 
can get at the man behind the 
saint; we can see not merely noble 
actions, but life in its true meaning, 
and feel in him both the struggle 
and the development. How mis- 
taken are those annals of the saints 
which represent them from the 
cradle surrounded with a halo, as 
if the noblest sight on earth were 
not that of a man conquering his 
own soul hour after hour, fighting 
against self, against suggestions of 
ease and idleness and pleasure, 
against unbelief and discourage- 
ment, and conquering at last through 
the grace of God ! 

St. Francis was also a great re- 
6 



The Man and the Times 

former. He set himself to counter- 
act the terrible evils before his eyes, 
and to introduce a different spirit 
into the Hfe about him. He suc- 
ceeded beyond all imagination, be- 
cause of his method and spirit. He 
embraced what would now appear 
extreme forms of humility and 
poverty, but it was what was needed 
by his age. By his gentleness, cour- 
age, utter unselfishness, devoted love, 
he alleviated the lot of the oppressed, 
and exercised a vast influence in 
undermining the principles which 
made their condition unbearable. 
He gave to the Christian religion 
a new start, a fresh hold upon the 
minds of men. In an age of practi- 
cal irreligion, based on secret un- 
belief, the great nobles, as well as 
the suffering poor, were awakened 

7 



St. Francis of Assisi 

to feel that a religion which pro- 
duced such a life and teaching was 
a religion that men might still live 
and die by. He did an untold work 
for the saving of souls, for the ad- 
vancement of religion, for the prog- 
ress of civilisation, for the uplifting 
of society. If, as the centuries 
rolled on, his work seemed to fail, 
it was because his followers lost 
the spirit of their leader, and were 
untrue to the principles which he 
established. 

He had apparently more than any 
other man whom we know in history 
what the Apostle Paul called the 
mind of Christ. " Let this mind be 
in you which was also in Christ 
Jesus, who . . . made himself of no 
reputation and took on him the form 

of a servant." His work in the world 

8 



The Man and the Times 

was accomplished through perhaps 
the closest following in the steps of 
the Master that the world has ever 
seen since the days of the Apostles. 
Like Christ he came " not to destroy, 
but to fulfil." He accepted the divine 
mission and authority of the Church, 
but threw a life and reality into what 
were fast becoming empty and life- 
less forms. Like his Master he 
entered into closest sympathy and 
relation with the poor, the miserable, 
the lost. He sorrowed and suffered 
for men. He brought fresh hope 
into lives that were sinking in de- 
spair, and the sunlight of eternity 
into one of the darkest and stormiest 
days of time. His method was the 
method of Christ. With our colder 
hearts and worldly wisdom we may 
talk of him as eccentric and extrav- 

9 



St. Francis of Assisi 

agant. What was Christ? The 
shallow and the scholar may both 
question his sanity. They called his 
Master mad. To save society Fran- 
cis came into direct collision with 
society, as Christ had done before 
him. It was a fresh beginning, a 
reproduction in certain respects of 
the first age of the Church. He took 
Christ literally at His word, he be- 
lieved that He meant what He said. 
The sermon on the Mount was to 
him the most literal of all directions. 
He felt that society needed arousing, 
reforming, saving, and that this could 
be done only by following closely, in 
his small way, the Masters lead. 
This is his strength and glory as a 
great reformer, that he more than any 
religious reformer since the Apos- 
tolic days had not only the genius to 

lO 



The Man and the Times 

see, but the courage, the strength, 
the love to do what was needed for 
the great end before him. He more 
than any other — I say it after long 
and careful study of his life, and 
making full allowance for Roman 
exaggeration — followed exactly, lit- 
erally, unflinchingly, in the steps of 
Christ. 

To understand the significance of 
the life and work of St. Francis it is 
necessary to have some definite ideas 
of the state of Europe in the thir- 
teenth century, to enter somewhat 
into the spirit, and know something 
of the religious and social conditions 
under which men lived ; that we may 
realise the terrible need of some 
supreme man, who would set his 
back against the crying evils of his 
day, and not be afraid to lift his voice 

II 



St. Francis of Assisi 

in denunciation of those in high 
places, yet would have all the kind- 
ness and sympathy and love for the 
fallen that a truly repentant sinner 
feels for his fellow sinners ; that we 
may see in the person of St. Francis 
an instrument raised up by God for 
the purpose of setting before men 
the reality, the power, the joy of that 
religion which had become little 
more than a counterfeit. 

" Mediaevalism is the record of 
spiritual, mental, and political slav- 
ery; but it is also the fascinating 
story of the supremacy of the Church ; 
of the Crusades with their forlorn 
hopes and splendid legends; of the 
piety that raised the Gothic cathe- 
drals; of the universities with their 
weight of learning; of the friars, 
poor for Christ's sake ; of the scho- 

12 



The Man and the Times 

lastics, justifying dogma; and the 
mystics, blessed with the vision of 
God. The mediaeval Church policy 
meant just one thing, supremacy in 
things temporal and spiritual. For 
this policy Hildebrand was mainly 
responsible. In his strife with Henry, 
the stroke and counter-stroke were 
followed by the tragic scene at 
Canossa. With heavy step Henry 
climbed to the mountain fortress, 
for three days standing barefoot in 
the snow, clad in a coarse woollen 
shirt; he, the son of an emperor and 
himself the uncrowned Emperor of 
Rome, sought admission to Hilde- 
brand, the son of the carpenter of 
Savona. When at last he was ad- 
mitted to the presence of the Pope 
he threw himself on the ground cry- 
ing, ' Spare me, Holy Father, spare 

13 



St. Francis of Assisi 

me!/' Innocent III. who ascended 
the papal throne in 1198, when 
Francis was sixteen years old, was 
a worthy successor of Hildebrand, 
the strongest man in Europe. " In 
the Empire he played the rivalry 
of Otto of Brunswick against Philip 
of Swabia, and changed German 
history at will. In France he ap- 
peared as the guardian of morality 
and the Saviour of the oppressed. 
Philip Augustus had put away his 
Danish wife, Ingeburga, without 
cause, and the French clergy had 
granted the divorce. The queen 
appealed to Rome. Pope Celestine 
had quailed before the haughtiness 
of Philip, but Innocent was a dif- 
ferent man, and in him the king and 
clergy found their master. PhiHp 
was compelled to send away his be- 

14 



The Man and the Times 

loved Agnes of Meran, and to take 
back his injured queen. In Eng- 
land King John had resigned his 
crown and received it back as a 
vassal of the Pope. In the East 
the Crusades had for the time seated 
a Latin king and established the 
Latin Church in Constantinople. 
The kings of Portugal and Aragon 
owned his sovereign power, which 
extended also over Bohemia, Hun- 
gary, and Poland." Throughout the 
civilised world the Church of Rome 
was supreme. 

But the victory had been gained 
at the expense of religion. Every 
writer of the age stigmatises the dis- 
soluteness of the clergy, and their 
scant regard for the common decen- 
cies of life. The traffic in ecclesias- 
tical places was carried on with 

IS 



St. Francis of Assisi 

boundless audacity; benefices were 
put up to the highest bidder with- 
out shame. Innocent admits that 
fire and sword only could heal the 
plague. Prelates who declined to be 
bought were looked upon with won- 
der. Greed, cruelty, lust, polluted 
the lives of the Shepherds. Ap- 
peals to the ecclesiastical courts 
were constant against assassination, 
ravishment, incest, adultery. The 
number of bulls issued against these 
crimes among the clergy shows their 
prevalence. If the religious leaders 
were bad it is not strange that their 
followers were no better. The worst 
feature in this general decadence of 
morals was the callousness with 
which the worst forms of vice were 
regarded. Perjury, bloodshed, rap- 
ine prevailed, and public opinion 

i6 



The Man and the Times 

acquiesced, raised no voice against 
it. 

Superstition had taken the place 
of religion. Public worship had been 
reduced to a liturgical ceremonial 
which no longer appealed to the 
intelligence — a sort of self-acting 
magic formula. The pulpit, which 
ought to have shed some light, was 
silent; the Bishops alone were ex- 
pected to preach, and they were ab- 
sorbed in other matters. It was the 
work of Francis and Dominic, and 
the birth of the mendicant bodies 
that obliged the clergy to take up 
the practice of preaching. The 
worship of the saints under the guid- 
ance of an artful priesthood had 
loosened the bands of religion and 
lowered the standards of morality. 
Instead of high examples to be fol- 

2 ly 



St. Francis of Assisi 

lowed, they were regarded as good- 
natured intercessors to be bribed. 
A man had only himself to blame if 
he failed to secure their services. A 
little attention paid to the saints, 
with due liberality to their servants, 
would save the most atrocious of- 
fender. One of the legends gener- 
ally accepted was that of a man whose 
occupation was highway robbery. 
He was taken and hanged, but while 
the cord was about his neck he 
prayed to the Virgin, and she sup- 
ported his dangling feet with her 
white hands for two days, and when 
the executioner attempted to do with 
the sword what the rope failed to 
accomplish, the weapon was turned 
aside by the same hand, until he was 
compelled to release the criminal. 
A parrot carried away by a hawk 

i8 



The Man and the Times 

uttered the words learned from Its 
mistress, Sancte Tkoma, adjuva me^ 
and it was released. Relics were 
talismans which wrought cures even 
against the will of the sick. When 
the body of St. Martin was brought 
back to Touraine, two lame beggars 
who had gained a good living from 
their infirmity, were thrown into 
great fear lest they should be healed. 
They attempted to flee from the 
country, but on account of their lame- 
ness they had not reached the fron- 
tier when the body of the saint 
crossed it, and they were healed. 
Such stories were not received by 
the poor and ignorant alone ; they 
were generally believed by all classes. 
The feudal system was in full 
force. In the middle ages there were 
but two classes, the lords who owned 

19 



St. Francis of Assisi 

the soil, and the serfs who went with 
it. The unsettlement of the Crusades, 
with the drain on human life, had 
impoverished the nobles, inclining 
them to be more stringent in their 
exactions, and adding to the suffer- 
ings, which under the best condi- 
tions, come into the lot of the 
labouring classes. Power was in the 
hands of a few, who used it largely 
for the oppression of the people. To 
no one in authority did the people 
seem of any account. 

Italy in the thirteenth century was 
in almost constant warfare ; its coun- 
try districts depopulated ; its fields 
protected only in the narrow circle 
of the garrison towns ; the cities 
occupied in watching for the most 
favourable moment for falling upon 

and pillaging their neighbours ; sieges 

20 



The Man and the Times 

terminated by unspeakable atrocities 
followed by terrible revenge ; famine 
accompanied by pestilence coming 
in to complete the devastation. Nor 
was this all. The wars between city 
and city were complicated by civil 
dissensions; plots were hatched 
periodically, conspirators were exiled 
or massacred if discovered; they 
exiled or massacred others if tri- 
umphant. Masses of human beings 
were crowded together in squalor, 
want, disease, and misery, left to rot 
and die. " Society," says the late 
Bishop of London, " was on the verge 
of collapse when Francis of Assisi 
stepped in and saved it." And again : 
" The two men who have had the 
greatest effect on modern history, in 
widely different ways, are Napoleon 
Bonaparte and Francis of Assisi." 

21 



St. Francis of Assisi 

"In that iron age when brute force 
was the main power and might was 
right, the Church, with all its wounds, 
with all its weaknesses, yet offers a 
spectacle of moral grandeur, the 
spectacle of a spiritual power com- 
manding the rulers of the world, the 
spectacle of peasants and labouring 
men receiving the humble homage 
of the highest potentates on earth 
simply because, seated on the throne 
of St. Peter, they represented moral 
law. What other conceivable power 
or authority on earth would have 
sufficed to tame savage and law- 
less princes and barons, to restrain 
in any degree the rapacity, greed, and 
cruelty of men ? Things were bad 
enough, it is impossible to justify the 
methods used, but, all things consid- 
ered, the papacy had a work to do in 

22 



The Man and the Times 

the middle ages and it did it, im- 
perfectly to be sure, but it did a work 
which, so far as we can see, no other 
power on earth, under the conditions 
and circumstances then existing, 
could have accomplished, — the work 
of saving the world from utter social 
and religious chaos." 

For the Church was not all cor- 
rupt. Then as now the evil made 
more noise than the good. Here 
and there in the world there have 
always been souls capable of heroism 
if they can only see before them 
their true leader. St. Francis be- 
came for such in his day the guide 
they longed for, and whatever was 
best in the humanity of his time 
leaped to follow in his footsteps. A 
few great men, not the masses, have 
made the world what it is, and St. 

23 



St. Francis of Assisi 

Francis was one of them. He pro- 
foundly influenced his own time, and 
his work follows after him; for all 
who contemplate his life are the 
better for it. To be good is the most 
and the best that a man can be, and 
goodness in another stirs the desire, 
and rouses the slumbering capacity 
for it in every heart that sees and 
knows it. Even a brief survey of 
such a life will help us, for on the 
one hand the weakness and short- 
comings of his early life show us a 
man like ourselves, a poor sinner 
saved by divine grace ; and on the 
other, the transcendent victories that 
he gained, and the wonderful results 
that he accomplished show us what 
a sinful man can become, what a sin- 
ful man can do, when, with a sense 
of his own weakness, reliance upon 

24 



The Man and the Times 

divine power sways his earthly Hfe. 
Perhaps as we follow him in thought 
through these weeks of Lent, and 
see his self-sacrifice, his devotion to 
his Master, his intense love for souls, 
his great sorrow for sin, his patient 
resignation when all seemed broken 
and marred by failure, we shall re- 
ceive into our own lives something 
of that which can be supplied from 
the truly beautiful and Christlike 
example of this Saint of God. 



25 



II 

THE CONVERSION OF A SINNER 

M. Paul Sabatier, the brilliant 
French critic, has told us how he 
came to devote so much of his life 
to the study of St. Francis. He had 
been to Assisi to see the place, and 
was driving back to the station in an 
omnibus. By his side sat a radical 
free-thinking physician, who began 
to talk with him about the saint. At 
first he was sarcastic, asking if he 
had any relics or wonder-working 
articles of religion, which are the 
principal object of so many visitors 
to the shrine at Assisi. " No," M. 

27 



St. Francis of Assisi 

Sabatier said, " I have been looking 
chiefly at Giotto's work." It had 
hardly occurred to him that Francis 
himself was the main interest at 
Assisi, or that he was more than an 
ordinary saint of the Roman Church, 
a more or less legendary personage, 
with no particular message to this 
age, and no particular value to the 
world to-day. Then to his surprise 
the free-thinker burst out into most 
extravagant language of enthusiasm 
about St. Francis, speaking of him 
as one of the fathers of Italy, and 
one of the greatest reformers the 
world had ever known. This con- 
versation was a kind of turning- 
point in Sabatier's life. His atten- 
tion was arrested. Was this Francis 
of Assisi really all that men said? 
had such a man really lived in this 

28 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

world? He determined to find out 
for himself. The radical doctor de- 
serves our thanks, for the conversion 
of Paul Sabatier to a belief in St. 
Francis has been the means of bring- 
ing home to people a far truer 
knowledge of the saint than was 
possible before the French scholar, a 
critic of the critics, began his patient 
and thorough investigations. M. 
Sabatier, in his life of St. Francis, 
has helped greatly to restore the 
portrait of the saint after its much 
retouching, by true critical and sci- 
entific methods, getting at the root 
of the story beneath the mass of leg- 
endary matter, and showing us what 
he really was to those who lived 
with him, and wherein lay the secret 
of his power. 

There are few men who have not 
29 



St. Francis of Assisi 

cause to repeat with all the earnest- 
ness of their nature the words of the 
Psalmist : " O remember not the sins 
and offences of my youth, but ac- 
cording to thy mercy think thou 
upon me, O Lord." The old 
shadows cast their shadows still : 
the old leaven may be purged away, 
but the evil of its ever having been 
there causes that hidden sorrow 
which is both the pain of the peni- 
tent sinner and the joy of the angels 
over his repentance. So it was with 
St. Francis. His story begins with 
the sins of his youth, and they are 
an ever present sorrow in his life. 

Assisi is a little town lying about 
half-way between Rome and Flor- 
ence, somewhat to the east of the 
ordinary line of travel. It was the 
ancient Roman city Assisium where, 

30 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

in the year 46 b. c. the poet Proper- 
tius was born. 

" This city piled along the Umbrian hill 
Gave birth to two twelve hundred years apart, 
Who, handling the sweet mysteries of the 

heart. 
Sang both of love in measures memorable. 
Propertius tuned with less impassioned skill 
The strings which Ovid and TibuUus struck. 
He sang of woman, and of woe or luck, 
Determined, as it chanced, by Cynthia's will. 
And Francis, like Propertius, sang of Love, 
Love universal, utter and Divine, 
Love not of man or woman, but of all. 
All nations felt the quivering strings and 

strove. 
Till Love of Francis holds the world in thrall.'* 

It is very much to-day what it was 
seven hundred years ago. The half- 
deserted streets, with their ancient 
houses, lie in terraces on the steep 
hillside. The feudal castle is there, 
but in ruins; the old Franciscan 

31 



St. Francis of Assisi 

monastery on the brow of the hill, 
completed in 1228, is still inhabited 
by a few monks. The Church built 
at the saint's death is decorated by 
the frescoes of Giotto with twenty- 
eight scenes from his life. The 
houses crowded together climb up 
the narrow streets, their windows 
looking out on a panorama of the 
the wide Umbrian plain surrounded 
by green hills standing out against 
an azure sky. Here, in 1182, St. 
Francis was born. His father was 
Pietro Bernardone, a wealthy cloth- 
merchant. He was absent from 
home at the time of his son's birth, 
and his mother had him baptised 
John, but on his father's return he 
chose to call him Francis, the first 
use so far as we know of this name 
which has since been given in hon- 

32 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

our of him to so many kings and 
great ones. 

The boy's education was not car- 
ried far. He knew the French 
language well; he learned a little 
Latin, and to write with difficulty. 
Throughout his life he used the 
pen rarely and but for few words ; 
his autograph shows awkwardness, 
and he usually signs his letters with 
the mark of a cross. His father's 
wealth and possibly his mother's 
noble birth raised him to the level of 
the young nobility, and the money 
with which he was plentifully sup- 
plied, and which he liberally spent, 
made him welcome among them. 
He was too good-natured to refuse 
anything that was asked of him ; too 
full of fun to be behind his com- 
panions in any mirth or festival or 
3 33 



St.. Francis of Assisi 

frivolity ; too ambitious not to try to 
surpass them in every extravagance, 
and in not always innocent enjoy- 
ment. By his recklessness and wild 
pranks he became something of a 
celebrity in the town. He was con- 
stantly seen with his companions 
attracting attention by the richness 
of his dress and the noisiness of his 
behaviour. Even at night the revel- 
ling was kept up, making the town 
ring with their gay love-songs. 

But even in these early years 
better traits of character appear. He 
was always courteous, polite, refined, 
generous, charitable. When he was 
asked for alms it was rarely in vain ; 
if he had no money with him he gave 
some ornament or a part of his rich 
dress. Once, when in his father's 
shop, a beggar came in and asked for 

34 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

help in the name of God. Francis 
roughly sent him away, but imme- 
diately he reproached himself for his 
harshness, saying: *' If he had asked 
something in the name of a count or 
baron what would I not have done ? 
How much more when he asks in 
the name of God!" He ran after 
him and helped him. 

When his school days were over 
he was associated with his father in 
business, where he showed that if 
he knew how to spend money he 
knew how to make it too ; and gave 
his father great satisfaction by his 
ability. Associated as he was with 
the nobles, he was no mere man of 
fashion afraid of the sword, no hanger- 
on of rich men, but ever ready to de- 
fend the cause of the people. When 
war broke out between the people 

35 



St. Francis of Assisi 

and their oppressors, the nobility, he 
took up the sword and fought with 
the people. The nobles, reinforced 
by the power of Perugia, were suc- 
cessful in a long and bloody engage- 
ment, in which Francis was taken 
prisoner. He was carried to Peru- 
gia, where he was confined in prison 
for a year, and where he astonished 
his fellow prisoners by his brightness 
and gaiety when others were de- 
pressed by their misfortunes. 

When he returned he was twenty- 
two years old, and for several years 
seems to have continued in business 
with his father, but conducting him- 
self in his old extravagant ways. 
Fetes, games, festivals were in con- 
tinual round. It was the age of 
the Troubadours. The movement 
caught the imagination of the young 

36 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

men, and especially that of Francis. 
He formed a kind of court. His 
personal charm and ample means 
gave him great opportunity. He 
was the leader among the young 
nobles at Assisi. He sang with 
them the songs of the Troubadours, 
conducted their processions through 
the streets, took the chief place at 
their banquets. He did his part so 
well that he became ill. For a long 
time he was laid aside, looking death 
in the face, and at this time the 
change in his life probably began. 
As he recovered strength the mem- 
ories of the past came to him with 
great bitterness. He was dissatisfied 
with himself, his former ambitions 
seemed to him unworthy; he was 
learning that a life of pleasure leads 
only to satiety and self-contempt 

37 



St. Francis of Assisi 

Yet knowing this he threw himself 
once more into the old round of 
pleasure-seeking, trying to divert his 
mind and forget his better thoughts. 
An opportunity again offered of 
doing something as a soldier, and he 
hoped to find in military glory what 
he had sought vainly in pleasure. 
War had again broken out in Italy. 
A knight of Assisi was going to 
join the standard of Walter of Bri- 
enne, one of the most gallant leaders 
of the time, who was carrying all 
before him, and this knight offered 
to Francis the position of his esquire. 
He accepted with the greatest en- 
thusiasm and delight. He made his 
preparations with great extravagance ; 
his equipment was the talk of the 
town. He set out radiant with joy. 
But at Spoleto he was struck down 

38 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

with fever. His companions went 
on without him, and with them van- 
ished his visions of military fame. 
He returned to Assisi a disappointed 
and discouraged man. He went 
back to his old ways and his old 
sins, but they had no longer any fas- 
cination for him, they left only a bit- 
terness in his mouth. Disappointed 
in pleasure and in glory, he turned 
at last toward religion, as offering an 
object worthy of the consecration of 
his powers, and a satisfaction he had 
not yet found. 

Gradually a change took place. 
One day he invited his friends to a 
great banquet. Again he sat as king 
of the revels, but with an absent look 
on his face. One of the guests 
taunted him with being in love, and 
thinking of a bride. " Yes/' he said, 

39 



St. Francis of Assisi 

" I am thinking of a bride more beau- 
tiful, more rich, more pure than you 
can possibly imagine." His bride was 
rehgion, or more Hkely the Lady Pov- 
erty, so styled in the sentiment of the 
times, whom Dante has wedded to 
his name. Giotto in one of the fres- 
coes at Assisi has shown St. Francis 
placing a ring on the finger of a bride 
crowned with roses, but dressed in 
poor garments, with feet bruised by 
the stones and torn by briars. 

His friends saw that he was in 
earnest and left him to himself. In 
a cave or grotto near Assisi he 
spent much of his time, mourning 
over his sins, praying for mercy, 
seeking truth and light ; and the 
pallor of his face and the tension 
of his features told of the intensity 
within. One friend, different from 

40 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

the others, probably the future 
Brother Elias, was much with him, 
helping and guiding him toward 
the new life. 

By degrees the struggle and 
anguish passed, and calm returned 
to his soul. Among the numerous 
chapels near Assisi was one that 
he particularly loved, that of St. 
Damian. There was nothing in it 
but a simple stone altar and a cruci- 
fix over it. One day he was pray- 
ing before the altar with his eyes 
fixed on the face of Jesus on the 
cross. It looked down on him with 
an expression of infinite pity and 
love. It seemed to say, " Come unto 
me." He could not withdraw his 
eyes ; the figure seemed to be alive, 
and through the silence he became 
aware of a voice speaking to him 

41 



St. Francis of Assisi 

tenderly from the cross : " I have 
accepted thy sacrifice, thy desires, 
thy offering, thy work, thy life, thy- 
self." His heart henceforth was 
filled with peace and his life with 
power. Whatever we may think of 
this occurrence which is related by 
all his biographers, it is quite cer- 
tain that to St. Francis himself it 
was real, and that it had a profound 
effect upon his life. Until then 
religion had been for him a mere 
form, a meaningless ceremonial. 
For the first time he was brought 
into personal relation with Jesus 
Christ. The look of love cast upon 
him from the cross was never to 
pass from his memory. His only 
question henceforth was what did 
Jesus want him to do. He believed 
himself called of God. To those 

42 



The Conversion of a Sinner 

who believe in the call of Samuel 
there is nothing incredible in this. 
God is always calling us. The very 
word Church, ecclesia, means those 
who are called of God. " For ye 
see your calling, brethren," says the 
apostle; "how that not many wise 
men after the fiesh, not many 
mighty, not many noble, are called." 
The saint is one who recognises 
the call of God and responds with 
complete self-surrender. 

When Francis turned toward reli- 
gion it was with his whole heart, with 
all the ardour of his impetuous nature. 
He could not be half-hearted in any- 
thing. What he did, he did with his 
might. God can do much with such 
natures. The world has great need 
of them. For them there is a peace, 
a joy, a fulness of power that the half- 

43 



St. Francis of Assisi 

hearted can never know. Francis 
found in Christ and the service of 
Christ the satisfaction that he had 
sought vainly in the pleasures and 
pursuits of the world. With all his 
trials and sufferings and renuncia- 
tions he was a happy man, his life 
was a happy life. No one can read 
it without feeling that gladness is its 
predominating note. He had found 
his true Master, "whose service is 
perfect freedom ; " he had found the 
meaning of his life, and his face was 
set steadfastly toward the goal. The 
trouble with most of us is that we are 
half-hearted ; we are trying to serve 
two masters; our hearts are dis- 
tracted by the claims of God and the 
cares of the world ; our lives divided 
into two sections, one given to God 
and the other kept for self, and there 

44 



The 'Conversion of a Sinner 

is constant friction and disappoint- 
ment and failure. Oh, to have a 
vision of the highest and best and to 
surrender unreservedly to it, think 
what it means. It means something 
of pain perhaps, something of sacri- 
fice surely, but it means also to have 
the heavens opened and to see Him 
who is invisible; to have fellowship 
with God through Jesus Christ His 
Son ; to have a guide in every choice 
of life, a clue in every labyrinth of 
duty, a joy in every sorrow, sun- 
light in the misty morning, songs in 
the night For such there is a peace 
that the world cannot give, a power 
the world cannot resist, growth in all 
that stretches heavenward, complete 
assimilation at last to the likeness of 
Him who is loved and served. 



45 



Ill 

THE MAKING OF A SAINT 

The vision at St. Damian s was the 
crisis in the conversion of Francis. 
From that time the Lord Jesus 
Christ was a real, living person al- 
ways present to him, known and 
loved by him. Henceforth he was 
a Christian, Christ's man, seeking 
only to know and do his Master's 
will. He did not give himself to a 
life of seclusion and contemplation 
according to the custom of the day. 
He felt that activity called him, that 
his faith demanded works, not words, 
as its expression. He did not wait 

47 



St. Francis of Assisi 

for great things, but accepted the 
work, however humble, that was 
nearest to him, that needed most to 
be done. As he rose from his knees 
and looked about him, the first thing 
that caught his eye was the dilapi- 
dated condition of the little chapel 
which had been to him a kind of 
Bethel. He seemed to hear a voice 
saying, " Go restore my house that 
is falling into ruins." As he came 
out he gave to the priest all the 
money that he had. His horse and 
a few pieces of cloth were now his 
only possessions. These he sold, 
and laid the money on the altar. 
He went into the open squares of 
the city and told those who gathered 
about him of his intention, and 
begged their help. Some laughed 

at him, but others were touched, re- 

48 



The Making of a Saint 

membering the brilliant youth. He 
took the stones that were given him 
on his shoulders, little used to such 
heavy work, carried them up the 
hill, and laid them with his own 
hands. As he had nothing to eat, 
and no means, he was compelled to 
beg his bread from door to door. 
It was not an easy task. The first 
time he looked at the broken, re- 
pulsive food he had received, he 
could not touch it, but each hour 
brought him strength. One day 
when begging for St. Damian's he 
passed a house where a banquet of 
his former companions was going 
on. At the sound of their well- 
known voices the memories of the 
past came back to him, and he 
could not enter, but turned away. 

Then, disgusted at his own coward- 
4 49 



St. Francis of Assisi 

ice, he returned, entered the hall, 
and after confessing his shame, 
pleaded with so much earnestness 
for his work that they could not 
help contributing. 

The poor, to whom he had always 
been kind and charitable, now be- 
came his constant care. He was 
filled with the thought, not uncom- 
mon to the piety of the middle ages, 
that they were the representatives of 
Christ, '' who though he was rich, yet 
for our sakes became poor." He 
loved their simplicity, their grati- 
tude, their kindness to one another, 
their contrast to the ostentatious sel- 
fish pride of the rich. He studied 
so deeply the character of the Lord 
that he felt a great enthusiasm for 
poverty. To have complete control 
of himself, to give up all that hin- 

50 



The Making of a Saint 

dered him from doing the perfect 
will of God, was his great desire. 

Some time before this he had made 
a pilgrimage to Rome, where he saw 
with pained surprise the selfish ex- 
travagance and waste, and the meagre 
offerings to religion. He emptied 
his purse and laid all that he had 
on the altar at St. Peter's. He knew 
little as yet of the humiliations and 
pains of poverty. He loved fine 
clothes and dainty food. He desired 
to know what it would be like to 
wear coarse, soiled garments, to have 
nothing to eat, and to depend on the 
charity of others. He borrowed the 
rags from a beggar and stood for a 
whole day in the piazza of St. Peter's, 
fasting, with outstretched hands. It 
was a hard struggle and a great vic- 
tory over his natural pride. 

51 



St. Francis of Assisi 

Returning to Assisi, a more diffi- 
cult trial awaited him. As he was 
riding one day, at a turn of the road 
he found himself face to face with a 
leper. The awful sight had always 
caused him horror and loathing. By 
an instinctive movement he turned 
his horse in another direction — but 
only for a moment. Remembering 
his Lord's example he conquered his 
revulsion, sprang from his horse, 
gave the poor wretch what money 
he had, and when he left him stooped 
and kissed his hand. A few days 
later he went into a lazaretto and for 
some time devoted himself to the 
care of these unfortunate beings. 

Few persons in the world were 
more utterly miserable than the 
lepers of that time. Like living 
corpses, in gray garments reaching 

52 



The Making of a Saint 

to their feet, with hoods over their 
faces, they went about carrying a 
large rattle, St. Lazarus' rattle it 
was called, to give notice of their 
approach. From the prevailing con- 
ditions of filth and the absence of 
all sanitary regulations, the disease 
had spread through Europe like a 
scourge. Medical science was power- 
less against it. They were herded 
together like animals and left to die, 
with no one to tend to their bodies 
and none to care for their souls. 
There had been One in the world 
once who did not shrink from them, 
who laid His hands on them, and 
said, "I will, be thou clean." St. 
Francis required no other example 
than that of his Master, in whose 
steps he was learning to follow. 
Just because they were miserable, 

S3 



St. Francis of Assisi 

forsaken, helpless, this fastidious and 
sensitive young man, in the greatness 
of his love, gave himself for their 
help. Overcoming his natural loath- 
ing, he not only tended, nursed, com- 
forted them, but he showed them the 
warm affection which he really felt ; 
he washed their feet, dressed their 
sores, ate at the same table, and even 
kissed them. Disgusting and loath- 
some, we think ; yes, and disgusting 
and loathsome to him too, but if he 
thought it was what Christ wanted, 
the more loathsome it was the more 
lovely it becomes. In his last will 
and testament, one of the few au- 
thentic documents that we have from 
his hand, he writes : " When I was in 
the bonds of sin it was bitter and 
loathsome to me to look upon per- 
sons infected with leprosy, but that 

54 



The Making of a Saint 

blessed Lord brought me among 
them, and I did mercy with them, 
and when I departed from them what 
seemed bitter and loathsome was 
changed to me into great sweetness 
and comfort both of body and 
soul." 

Nor was his work for them merely 
the enthusiasm of love. There was 
in it a far-reaching wisdom. His 
sacrifice was not without lasting re- 
sults. What he did for the lepers 
himself he made a part of the rule 
of the Order which he afterwards 
founded. Men of all ranks entered 
the Order, men of culture, of wealth, 
of noble birth, but whoever they 
were, they had to spend a part of 
their time in the hospital tending 
the lepers. From this two things 
followed, one, an improvement in 

55 



St. Francis of Assisi 

the sanitation of the towns and 
proper treatment of the disease, by 
which in the course of time the 
scourge was completely eradicated 
from Europe : the other, an impres- 
sion on the world, which could not 
otherwise have been made, of the 
reality of the love and religion 
which inspired these men. 

Another trial was the anger of 
his father and the severance of his 
family ties. Bernardone, the proud 
and successful man of the world, was 
disgusted with what seemed to him 
his son's infatuation. He was will- 
ing to provide money for his dissipa- 
tions, but not for his charities. One 
day as Francis passed through the 
streets, pale, emaciated, his garments 
torn and soiled, he was greeted with 
the shout Un pazzo ! A madman ! 

56 



The Making of a Saint 

There is an old Italian proverb Un 
pazzo ne fa cento — One madman 
makes a hundred, and quickly an 
excited crowd gathered about him 
throwing sticks and mud. Bernar- 
done heard the clamour and went 
out to enjoy the sight, when he 
heard his own name, and perceived 
his son the object of so much 
unpleasant attention. Filled with 
shame and rage he seized him, 
dragged him home, and when threats 
and bad usage failed to change him, 
had him cast into prison and ap- 
pealed to the magistrate. Francis 
claimed, as a servant of the Church, 
exemption from civil jurisdiction, 
and was sent to the Bishop for trial. 
The Bishop refused to interfere, ad- 
vising Francis simply to give up all 
his property. Instead of replying 

57 



St. Francis of Assisi 

he retired to another room of the 
palace, and soon returned holding 
in his hand a package in which he 
had folded the clothes he had on, 
and on which he placed the little 
money that he had. These he laid 
down before Bernardone. " Listen all 
of you," he said. " Until this time I 
have called Pietro Bernardone my 
father; now I desire to serve God. 
This is why I return this money, 
for which he has given himself so 
much trouble, as well as my clothing 
and all I have had from him, for 
henceforth I desire to say nothing 
else than ' Our Father who art in 
Heaven.'" Bernardone took the 
clothing, and the Bishop had to 
give Francis an old mantle to cover 
his nakedness. Henceforth you will 
notice nothing more is ever heard 

58 



The Making of a Saint 

of the rich, worldly-wise, self-seek- 
ing Bernardone, save as the father 
of the son whom he cast off in 
contempt. The prudent, practical, 
common-sense merchant, is dead 
and forgotten these seven hundred 
years. Francis, his son, acts on the 
principles of Christ, accepts the 
wisdom of God which is foolishness 
to the world, and his name lives and 
will live so long as there is a sense 
of greatness and goodness in the 
world and vitality in the Christian 
faith. 

Leaving the palace, Francis went 
out into the streets, thence into the 
forest, clothed only in the mantle the 
Bishop had given him, singing one 
of those Troubadour songs of chiv- 
alry he had learned in days gone by. 
Some robbers aroused by his sing- 

59 



St. Francis of Assisi 

ing, seized him. "Who are you?" 
they demanded. *'A herald of the 
great king," Francis answered ; *' but 
what Is that to you.^^ " They stripped 
him of his only garment and threw 
him into a ditch full of snow. " Lie 
there, poor herald,'' they said ; " that 
Is the place for you." He made his 
way, stiff with cold, to a monastery 
near by, and offered to make him- 
self useful to the monks In any way 
they might desire. They set him to 
work In the kitchen, but gave him 
nothing to cover himself with, and 
hardly anything to eat. He went 
back to his friends the lepers, who 
received him gladly, comforted his 
heart with their affection, and from 
their scanty stores gave him what 
he needed. Soon after we find him 
at St. Damlan's, where he completed 

60 



The Making of a Saint 

the work of restoration which he 
had begun before. Then he set 
himself in the same way to restore 
two other churches that sadly needed 
repair. One was San Pietro near 
Assisi, the other, afterwards so closely 
connected with his name, was S. 
Maria degli Angeli, usually called St. 
Mary of the Portiuncula, which be- 
came a kind of home for the outcast 
and was always very dear to his 
heart. 

Here on the feast of St. Mathias 
in February, 1209, when he was 
twenty-seven years old. Mass was 
being said. When the priest turned 
to read the Gospel for the Day, 
Francis felt the same strange, over- 
powering sensation which had come 
to him three years before at St. Da- 
mian's. He no longer saw the priest ; 

61 



St. Francis of Assisi 

it seemed to him that it was Jesus 
who was speaking, and speaking di- 
rectly to him. The words read were 
these : " And as ye go preach, saying, 
The kingdom of heaven is at hand. 
Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, cast 
out devils ; freely ye have received, 
freely give. Provide neither gold nor 
silver nor brass in your purses, neither 
two coats, neither shoes, nor yet 
staves, for the workman is worthy of 
his meat." (Matt. x. 7-10.) 

They were the words he had been 
waiting for. They came to him like 
a revelation from Heaven. He ac- 
cepted them literally, not trying to 
explain them away, not saying they 
were meant for other conditions of 
life and were impossible for him. 
He took Christ at his word without 
reservation or limitation. "As ye 

62 



The Making of a Saint 

go preach " — " provide neither gold 
nor silver nor brass in your purses " 
— henceforth preaching and poverty- 
were the watchwords of his life. He 
threw away his stick, his wallet, his 
shoes, determined to obey implicitly, 
without questioning, the commands 
of Him whom he had taken as his 
Master and Lord. 

The next day he began to preach 
at Assisi with great simplicity, but 
great power. His preaching was 
chiefly the need of repentance, the 
blessedness of forgiveness, the sweet- 
ness of Christ's love, the glory of try- 
ing to follow His perfect life. The 
words came from the heart and went 
to the hearts of those who heard 
them. It is easy for men to escape 
the power of one who speaks from 
the pulpit. It is his business to 

63 



St. Francis of Assisi 

preach, he belongs to a class set apart 
for that purpose. It is not so easy 
to escape the power of one who walks 
by their side, a layman like them- 
selves, whose own life is an illustra- 
tion and example of his preaching. 
Francis had given himself so com- 
pletely that he had a right to claim 
renunciation of self from others. 
His person and life were themselves 
the sermon ; he spoke only out of his 
own experience, asking others to do 
as he had done that they might find 
the joy that he had found. From 
that day he was a man of power. 
The voice of one who had given up 
all for Christ moved Assisi, moved 
the century, still moves the world. 

Poverty to St. Francis was no giv- 
ing up of property merely as an act 
of self-denial ; no fanatical stripping 

64 



The Making of a Saint 

of himself for eccentricity and noto- 
riety; no price paid here to pur- 
chase Heaven hereafter. It was to 
him a means of freedom, that he 
might follow Christ more perfectly. 
He recognised the mistake of the 
rich young man in the Gospels. He 
saw that he was fettered by his 
wealth, that Christ wanted to make 
him free, to make him rich, to 
give him what he lacked, but the 
sacrifice was too great, and he went 
away sorrowful. St. Francis was 
what this young man might have be- 
come if he had not made " the great 
refusal." Poverty was not hardship 
to him, but happiness. In giving up 
all he found that he had gained all. 
He was no more bound down by 
earthly cares ; he was free from the 
worries and anxieties of the covetous 
5 6s 



St. Francis of Assisi 

man whose unfilled desire is ever to 
have and to get; he revelled in the 
sunlight of God's presence, desiring 
only to have what God chose to give 
him, and to be what God would make 
him. He was like the lily that 
drinks in the dew and the sunshine, 
and is simply the lovely thing God 
would have it be. Here is the secret 
of his love for Nature. The beasts, 
the birds, the flowers, the water and 
fire, the sun and moon were his 
brothers and sisters, poor like him- 
self yet rich, with nothing between 
them and heaven, doing God's will, 
living by God's power and to His 
glory. There is a vein of sunshine 
running all through his life. Though 
never a soul was more filled with 
penitential sorrow, he was yet bright 
as a spring morning. Francis the 

66 



The Making of a Saint 

saint was still Francis the young 
cavalier, full of song and fun as in the 
old days. He has his little jokes with 
the brothers, plays with them, will not 
allow any sour looks about him, tells 
them to look happy even if they feel 
like crying. // avait un coeur toujours 
en fete. He was always keeping fes- 
tival. No one had more of disap- 
pointment, annoyance, trial, to go 
through, but he was to all who came 
near him a power of brightness, mak- 
ing them feel the ejxhilaration, the 
sweetness, the poetry, the comfort, 
the glory of trying truly to follow 
Christ. *' Sweet Saint Francis of As- 
sisi," sighs Lord Tennyson, " would 
that he were here again." 



67 



IV 

THE LABOURS OF AN APOSTLE 

The ideal of St Francis was none 
other than that of Jesus Christ. He 
tried to look at life from the stand- 
point of Christ ; to be to the world, 
in his measure and limitations, what 
Christ had been. Absolute self- 
renunciation was indispensable to a 
true and faithful following of Christ. 
The perfect Master had not where 
to lay his head, why should the sin- 
ful servant have more ? True to his 
ideal he gave up all that he had, and 
became, in his own language, // 
poverello — the little poor man. He 

69 



St. Francis of Assisi 

adopted the brown woollen gown tied 
with a rope, which the poorest men 
of the time wore, and he went bare- 
foot as they did. 

He had as yet no thought of 
founding an Order. He simply de- 
sired men to follow Christ, and he 
tried to show them how he thought 
they ought to do so. But such a life 
inspires imitation. There is a yearn- 
ing in the human heart for complete 
devotion. The scoffing of the early 
days had given place to admiration. 
Renan says : " The great Umbrian 
movement of the thirteenth century 
is, among all attempts made at a 
great religious foundation, the one 
that most resembles the movement 
in Galilee." One after another there 
was gathered about him a little body 
of disciples. The first to come was 

70 



The Labours of an Apostle 

Bernard Quintavalle, a citizen of 
Assisi, and a man of wealth and 
prominence. He had been greatly 
impressed by the sincerity, patience, 
and devotion of the young man. He 
had several times given him shelter 
in his house. On one occasion, when 
they were sleeping in the same room, 
he had seen Francis get out of bed, 
and going down on his knees, repeat 
again and again, the tears streaming 
down his face, Deus mens et omniaj 
— My God and my all. Soon after 
he, and a Canon of the Church of 
St. Nicholas named Peter, sold all 
that they had, gave the proceeds to 
the poor, and joined Francis. They 
built a little hut for their shelter. 
This was in April, 1209. A week 
later came another disciple, Egidio, 
like Nathanael, " an Israelite indeed, 

71 



St. Francis of Assisi 

In whom was no guile," a pure and 
beautiful soul, a true and knightly 
spirit, whom Francis used to call the 
knight of their Round Table. 

With these three companions he 
set out on his first missionary jour- 
ney, going two by two, Bernard and 
Peter, Francis and Egidio. They 
went up and down the country, 
preaching repentance and self-renun- 
ciation, sleeping in hay-lofts, the 
porches of churches, or the leper 
hospitals, working by day in the 
fields for their bread. Their strange 
costume, their brightness and happi- 
ness and fearlessness, the simplicity 
of their words, attracted people. 
Some thought them mad, others felt 
that there was more than madness in 
their action. The result was not 
great, but a beginning had been 

72 



The Labours of an Apostle 

made. They returned to Assisi, 
where they were joined by four 
others, of whom we know little more 
than their names. 

Portiuncula, " the little portal," 
where Francis had first heard the 
words that called him, was their place 
of meeting, for they had no house or 
home. They went about the coun- 
try preaching, working for their liv- 
ing when they were able, often in 
want, sometimes nearly starving, but 
always joyous. The Bishop of Assisi 
said to them: "Your way of living 
without owning anything seems to 
me harsh and difficult." St. Francis 
answered: " If we possessed property 
we should have need of weapons to 
defend it, for it is a source of quar- 
rels and lawsuits, an obstacle to the 
love of God and our neighbour." He 

73 



St. Francis of Assisi 

saw that the whole feudal system, 
with its endless warfare and oppres- 
sion, rested on the possession of land 
and property. For this everything 
else was sacrificed. What was needed 
above everything else was the exam- 
ple of a life not dependent upon 
what the rest of the world craved, 
and for which they were selling 
themselves. He felt that society 
needed something like a shock to 
rouse and reform it, and that nothing 
but a life of absolute poverty could 
reach the luxury and selfishness of 
the times. They met much opposi- 
tion from the clergy, to whose avarice 
their poverty was a rebuke; and 
from the families of the rich and 
powerful, who feared that their sons 
might be drawn to imitate such in- 
sanity. They were often attacked 

74 



The Labours of an Apostle 

and insulted ; sometimes their clothes 
were torn from them and they were 
covered with mud and filth. Their 
only answer was, " God forgive you." 

The number of the little band 
had now increased to twelve, and 
Francis felt that the approval of the 
Pope was necessary to the move- 
ment. Full of hope the little com- 
pany set out for Rome. The Bishop 
of Assisi happened to be in Rome 
when they arrived, and through his 
services an interview with the Pope 
was obtained. 

Innocent was then engaged in 
the great ecclesiastical movement 
for supremacy which Hildebrand 
had begun. The Vicar of Christ 
could not be superior to emperors 
and kings unless he surpassed them 
in pomp and magnificence, and the 

75 



St. Francis of Assisi 

striving for worldly splendour had 
infected the whole ecclesiastical sys- 
tem. In one of the frescoes at 
Assisi, Giotto has represented this 
interview of so much dramatic 
and historic significance. Innocent 
seated on his throne looks with 
wonder in his eyes on the strangers, 
clad in peasant clothes, torn and 
stained and footsore with their long 
journey, asking nothing, claiming 
no privilege, save the privilege of 
following Christ, and of absolute 
conformity to the teachings of the 
Gospel. The Pope could not ap- 
prove of them without condemning 
himself and the whole aim and 
ambition of his life ; he could not 
condemn them without denying the 
teaching and commands of Him 
whose vicar and representative he 

76 



The Labours of an Apostle 

claimed to be. So he neither ap- 
proved nor condemned. He gave 
them kind words, he authorised 
them to continue their work under 
the consent of the Bishops; he re- 
quired them to accept the tonsure 
which marked them as no longer 
laymen, but belonging to one of the 
minor orders of the clergy; and 
from this time they were under the 
authority and supervision of the 
Church. This is the turning-point 
of the whole movement, the tragedy 
of St. Francis' life. It was the 
giving up of his liberty and the 
entering into bonds that never 
ceased to burden him, and against 
which he protested to his latest 
sigh. Never did man hear more 
clearly the voice of Christ, but he 
thought that obedience required 

77 



St. Francis of Assisi 

M 

submission to one whom he re- 
garded as the Vicar of Christ, and 
in perfect humility and obedience 
he surrendered. Henceforth the 
struggle was between the Francis- 
can ideal, sublime, unworldly, Christ- 
like, and the ecclesiastical policy of 
the time, until Francis, defeated, 
heartsick, feeling that his great ideal 
had been spoiled and taken from 
him, abdicated the direction of his 
spiritual family, and under his suc- 
cessors we see the triumph of the 
ecclesiastical idea, and the whole 
of the great Franciscan movement 
turned into a subtle engine of spirit- 
ual domination and material aggran- 
disement. That was the tragedy of 
St. Francis. 

They returned to Assisi preach- 
ing by the way. About an hour's 

78 



The Labours of an Apostle 

walk from the town was a ruined, 
deserted cottage, formerly a resort 
of lepers. It was so small that there 
was hardly space for them to live, 
but here they took up their abode, 
visiting and preaching in the neigh- 
bouring towns and villages. They 
suffered much from want, often 
being forced to satisfy their hunger 
on roots and leaves. One night St. 
Francis heard moaning and found 
one of the brothers dying of hunger. 
He rose and brought out food from 
his own scant supply, and forced 
him to eat. 

The approval of the Pope opened 
the churches to their preaching, but 
they were too small. Even the 
Cathedral to which the Bishop in- 
vited him was insufficient for the 
crowds, and he was forced to resort 

79 



St. Francis of Assisi 

to the public squares. His words 
were like a new revelation to his 
hearers; they aroused men's con- 
sciences, and touched their hearts. 
They were not eloquent save with 
the eloquence of a burning soul, filled 
with sympathy and pity and love. 
He saw that men were miserable 
and longed to help them. The 
whole community was moved; the 
poor, because they felt that they 
had found a friend, a brother, a 
champion, one who knew their suf- 
ferings and could help them; the 
rich, because they saw in him one 
who lived above the level of their 
lives, who was free from their sordid 
ambitions, indifferent to the things 
for which they were selling them- 
selves. Civil dissensions had broken 

out again in Assisi ; the nobles and 

80 



The Labours of an Apostle 

the people were on the verge of war. 
Through the influence of St. Francis 
the trouble was averted, and har- 
mony established ; the nobles granted 
a liberal charter in consideration of a 
small annual payment, and the inhab- 
itants of the villages were put on a 
level with those in the city. Num- 
bers were added to the order, mostly 
young men, many of high rank, and 
some of intellectual culture. It was 
no light task to govern them in a life 
of extraordinary self-denial and pov- 
erty, to keep them happy and efficient 
in carrying out a social and religious 
revolution, yet without monastic con- 
veniences or the formality of a defi- 
nite rule. His success is evidence 
not only of his goodness, but of his 
wisdom and common-sense. 

The Brothers Minor was the name 
6 8i 



St. Francis of Assisi 

that he gave to the order. One day 
one of the Brothers was reading to 
him the rules which he had drawn up 
for their guidance, and came to the 
words, " Let the Brothers, wherever 
they may find themselves called to 
labour or serve, never take an office 
which puts them over others; let 
them always be under, sint minoresy 
The poor and the common people 
at that time were called minores^ 
and the rich and powerful majores. 
Francis thought this was a provi- 
dential intimation of the name to 
be given them, and he said : " Let 
them be called Fratres Minores'' — 
the Brothers Minor ; and by that 
name, or the Minorites, the order 
has been known through the world. 
It was not a mendicant, but a 
labouring order which St. Francis 

82 



The Labours of an Apostle 

really founded. He insisted rigor- 
ously on the duty of work ; he was 
inflexibly severe on idleness. Those 
who entered the order were to con- 
tinue their calling if they had one, if 
not they were to learn one. He 
himself worked as a wood carver. 
They were to exchange the fruits of 
their labour for the necessities of life, 
but under no circumstances to receive 
money; where they were unable to 
get or to do suflScient work they were 
not to be ashamed to ask for food. 
Did not Jesus and his disciples live 
on bread that was given them ? But 
work was to be the rule, begging the 
exception. Evidently life at Porti- 
uncula differed much from that of the 
convent; it was more like a work- 
shop than a monastery. Men en- 
tered it without a novitiate of any 

33 



St. Francis of Assisi 

kind ; it was enough if they wanted 
to follow Christ, and were ready to 
show their sincerity by giving up all 
they possessed for the poor. So 
much youth, freedom, simplicity, 
love, drew the eyes of men toward 
it, and it increased rapidly. 

Not only men but women were at- 
tracted by this desire of a nobler life. 
The first to come was a girl of noble 
rank named Clara Sciffi. She had 
heard St. Francis preaching in the 
Cathedral. His words appealed to 
her ardent, enthusiastic spirit. She 
determined to break away from an 
idle, luxurious life, to give her- 
self to the service of God and the 
poor. On the night of Palm Sunday, 
12 1 2, she left her father's castle 
secretly, and came to St. Francis, 
offering herself to him. He recog- 

84 



The Labours of an Apostle 

nised at once the sincerity of her 
heart; without test or novitiate he 
accepted her. He read to her the 
words of Jesus which were the rule 
of the order, received her vows of con- 
formity, her hair was cut off, and she 
was taken to the house of the Ben- 
edictine nuns to remain for a time. 
The next morning her father came 
furiously upbraiding and abusing 
every one, but she was firm, and he 
was compelled to give up the idea of 
taking her away by force. St. Fran- 
cis succeeded in obtaining from the 
Benedictine monks the little chapel 
of St. Damian, and here, where the 
w^ords of Christ had first come to his 
own soul, a home was established. 
He took measures to prevent any but 
the most necessary communication be- 
tween the two communities, and when 

35 



St. Francis of Assisi 

other houses arose placed them under 
the care of the Church. They were 
called The Poor Clares and grew 
into a great order. For the rest of 
his life in the Lady Clara he had 
a kindred spirit, pure, brave, unsel- 
fish, devoted to carrying out his idea. 
In his hours of discouragement, she 
comforted him, when he doubted 
his mission and thought his work a 
failure she strengthened him. Their 
love for each other was full of tender 
romance, but so pure and spiritual 
that no breath of scandal has ever 
been breathed upon it. She caught 
the Franciscan spirit completely, its 
brightness, its generosity, its strength, 
its practical character. She survived 
him twenty-seven years, and to the 
day of her death struggled to carry 
out his idea with a holy heroism that 



The Labours of an Apostle 

makes her one of the loveliest pic- 
tures in religious history. 

Others, both men and women, who 
were married and could not leave 
their homes, desired to share in the 
movement. They came from all 
quarters and classes imploring St. 
Francis in some way to help them to 
live better lives and to renounce the 
world. This led to the formation of 
a third order, the Tertiaries, as they 
were called. Francis no more con- 
demned the family and property than 
Jesus did. He felt that he himself 
and his followers were exceptions. 
Their work was in a sense apostolic, 
and needed absolute freedom. He 
saw that this life was not possible or 
desirable for all. The Rule of the 
Tertiaries was simple and practical. 
It required the cultivation of a loving 

87 



St. Francis of Assisi 

spirit, the simplest possible way of 
living, and the distribution to the 
poor of all that was not needed for 
the simplest wants. It forbade the 
use of arms except in defence of the 
Church and the country. To close 
the heart to hatred, and open it in 
love to the sick and the poor, was 
the main requirement of the new 
order. It was a religion of practical 
love instead of form. Its success 
was immediate, and its results a far- 
reaching revolution. The first thing 
that it did was to strike a mortal blow 
at the feudal system in Italy. The 
Tertiaries refused to take up arms 
for the feudal lords in their endless 
quarrels with one another. The 
Pope was appealed to. Honorius 
was then in the papal chair, a man 
who loved the poor and longed for 

88 



The Labours of an Apostle 

peace. He took the side of the order, 
and forbade interference with them 
under penalty of excommunication. 
Military service was swept away and 
feudal oaths abolished. Again the 
nobility appealed to the Pope, and 
again he protected the order. Fran- 
cis lived to see the feudal system 
broken throughout Italy. 

Something of his own spirit per- 
meated society; a vast body of men 
and women were roused to religious 
activity and the reality of the Chris- 
tian life. The gulf between the rich 
and the poor was in a measure bridged, 
and a more humane spirit entered 
into all ranks. The poor felt that they 
were no longer outcasts from society 
when men cared for them and denied 
themselves for their help. The rich 
felt that the poor were their brothers 

89 



St. Francis of Assisi 

when they recognised their duty and 
did it. The proletariat of the cities, 
spurned by the nobles and despised 
by the artisans, learned that Chris- 
tianity could bring the fortunate and 
the unfortunate together, and conse- 
crate the strong to the service of the 
weak. St. Francis saved society in 
his day by bringing the classes to- 
gether in sympathy and binding them 
through duty. Civilisation received 
a new impulse as men ceased to strive 
for domination in perpetual warfare, 
and for years there was peace in Italy. 
Thus in the short space of three 
years, from such a small begin- 
ning, the organisation developed into 
an immense society; with almost 
incredible rapidity it made itself 
felt throughout Italy, and soon 
throughout the world. The name 

90 



The Labours of an Apostle 

of St. Francis became a household 
word among all ranks of men, and 
the whole country was moved with a 
desire for better things. To effect 
such a revolution required no com- 
mon powers; it implies something 
more than a pious, loving, extrava- 
gant enthusiast. St. Francis was a 
born ruler and organiser of men, 
whose power was that of magnetic 
influence, resting upon high sanc- 
tity, with deep insight into character, 
far-reaching wisdom and common- 
sense, complete self-forgetf ulness. 

His efforts were not confined to his 
own country. He said once to Car- 
dinal Ugolini. " Do you think God 
has raised up the Brotherhood for 
the sake of this country alone ? Verily 
I say unto you God has raised it up 
for the awakening and salvation of 

91 



St. Francis of Assisi 

all men, and shall turn souls not only 
in the countries of those that believe, 
but also in the midst of the infidels/' 
In the middle ages there were, broadly 
speaking, but two callings or pro- 
fessions for men, that of the soldier 
and that of the priest or monk. St. 
Francis combined the two, he was 
both saint and soldier. He was still 
a knight and retained the knightly 
spirit. It was this, perhaps, which 
gained for him in so great degree 
the admiration and imitation of the 
noblest spirits of his time. There 
was in him that longing for the 
unknown, that thirst for dangers, 
adventures, sacrifices, which makes 
the history of his century so attrac- 
tive in spite of its dark features. 

He believed that the Saracens 
also would accept the Gospel if it 

92 



The Labours of an Apostle 

only could be presented to them, and 
he longed to ^be the messenger to 
carry to them the priceless blessing. 
In the autumn of 12 12 he set out on 
this new kind of crusade, and sailed 
for Syria ; but his ship was wrecked 
in a tempest and cast upon the coast 
of Slavonia, and he was compelled to 
return to Ancona. Prevented from 
reaching the infidels in Syria, he de- 
termined to seek them in Spain and 
Morocco. With Bernard Quinta- 
valle, his first disciple, he sailed from 
Pisa and landed in Barcelona. It is 
uncertain how long he remained in 
Spain, but long enough to found 
several chapters. He was preparing 
to go across to Morocco, but the con- 
stant fatigue and exposure brought 
on a violent fever, which ' made the 
journey into Africa impossible. 

93 



St. Francis of Assisi 

On his return to Italy he again 
visited Rome, and here for the first 
time he was brought into contact 
with another great soul of his time, 
Dominic, the founder of another 
great order, the Dominicans, des- 
tined to become the rivals and often 
the enemies of the Franciscans. 
The two men became warm friends, 
though widely differing in character. 
Dominic was a trained theologian, 
and the members of his order, 
equipped with all the learning of the 
day, skilled in debate, were especially 
intended to be a defence to the 
church against heretics. To Fran- 
cis, scholastic learning was nothing ; 
he regarded it as a foe to simplicity. 
Piety, not learning, was to him the 
one thing needful, and the poor, not 
heretics, the object of his preaching. 

94 



The Labours of an Apostle 

Dominic aimed at teaching the dog- 
mas of the Church ; Francis, to show 
the world the beauty of holiness. 
The one has come down to us 
through the centuries as The Ham- 
mer of God; the other as The Father 
of The Poor. 

It was not until six years later 
that St. Francis was able to fulfil 
his desire of going as a missionary 
to the Saracens. In June, 1219, he 
sailed from Ancona with a few com- 
panions for Egypt. The Bishop of 
Acre writes : " We saw Brother 
Francis arrive, who founded the Mi- 
norite Order. He is a simple man 
without letters, but very lovable, dear 
to God as well as to men. He came 
to us when the army was lying under 
Damietta." Francis was greatly dis- 
tressed by the moral condition of the 

95 



St. Francis of Assisi 

crusading forces, their disorganisa- 
tion and want of discipline. He pre- 
dicted a great defeat, and on August 
29 they attacked the Saracens and 
were terribly routed. After ^preach- 
ing to the armies for a time he 
passed over to the camp of the in- 
fidels with a courage which was re- 
garded as madness. He was seized 
and thrown into chains. Afterwards 
he was brought into the presence of 
the Sultan, a man as large and gener- 
ous-minded as he was brave, who 
recognised in Francis a kindred 
spirit. He refused him permission 
to preach, but sent him back with 
presents. A number of legends have 
grown up in regard to the interview, 
how Francis challenged the priests 
of Mahomet to pass through the fire, 
how the Sultan endeavoured to con- 

96 



The Labours of an Apostle 

vert him, how at last he was con- 
demned to death and the Sultan 
privately interfered and released him. 
We have no reliable foundation for 
these stories. 

Though the mission to the Sara- 
cens failed, it had great effect on 
the crusaders, and many joined the 
order. An eye-witness, Jacques 
de Vitry writes : " Master Reynier, 
Prior of St. Michael's has entered 
the order of the Brothers Minor, an 
order which is multiplying rapidly 
on all sides because it imitates the 
primitive Church, and follows the 
life of the Apostles in everything. 
The Master of these Brothers is 
named Brother Francis. He is so 
lovable that he is venerated by all. 
After he came among us so great 
was his zeal that he did not fear to 
7 97 



St. Francis of Assisi 

go to the army of our enemies, and 
preach the word of God to the Sara- 
cens. He had not much success, 
but on his departure the Sultan 
asked him in secret to show him by 
some miracle which was the best 
religion. Colin, the Englishman, 
our clerk, has entered the same 
order, as also two others of our 
companions, Michael, and Master 
Matthew, to whom I had given 
the rectorship of Sainte Chapelle. 
Cantor and Henry have done the 
same, and others whose names I 
forget." 

The same year another mission 
was sent to Spain, which ended in 
tragedy and martyrdom. In Se- 
ville, a city then in the hands of 
the Saracens, the little band was 
seized and sentenced to death. 

98 



The Labours of an Apostle 

The sentence was changed to ban- 
ishment to Morocco. The Moors 
acted at first with great modera- 
tion and patience. They sent 
them out of the country under 
a guard that they might return to 
Europe. They escaped and went 
back to Morocco, where again they 
openly preached the Christian re- 
ligion. Again they were thrown 
into prison, from which they were 
released under the royal command 
to leave the country. The com- 
mand was disregarded, and this time 
the patience of the authorities seems 
to have been exhausted. They were 
tortured with savage cruelty, dragged 
through the streets, terribly beaten, 
rolled on sharp pieces of glass, and 
their wounds rubbed with acid to 
intensify their sufferings. The king 

99 
LofC. 



St, Francis of Assisi 

visited them in prison, and endeav- 
oured to induce them to give up 
their work. When all his efforts 
were vain, in a fit of rage, he killed 
them with his own hands. 

Their martyrdom, and the mission 
of St. Francis to the East, had an 
effect that was felt far and wide. 
The world could not but feel that 
these men were in deep earnest. 
The sight of them, many of them 
cultured and high-born men, ex- 
posing their lives with sublime 
courage, and laying them down with 
heroic fortitude to advance the 
cause of the Cross, not by arms, but 
by loving devotion, extending the 
same self-sacrificing efforts to the 
hated infidel, — such a sight sent 
through Europe a thrill of admira- 
tion for those who could live and 

lOO 



The Labours of an Apostle 

die for their faith, with a charity 
toward all men, which nothing could 
check. Within ten years of its 
inception the Franciscan movement 
was no longer a power in Italy 
merely, but had become a force 
throughout the civilised world. 



lOI 



V 

THE SUFFERING SERVANT 

To have a true and high ideal, to 
feel in it the inspiration of God, to 
know that it has power to uplift the 
world; to give life and all to the 
service of it, and then to see it 
taken away, corrupted, debased, trans- 
formed from a power of freedom into 
a means of enslavement, and be 
powerless to help it, — that is the 
greatest sorrow a noble spirit can 
possibly know. That was the sor- 
row of St. Francis' closing years. 

On his return from the East he 
found that changes had taken place. 

103 



St. Francis of Assisi 

Before setting out he had appointed 
two men, the brothers Matteo, to be 
vicars in his place. They began at 
once to make innovations, to relax 
the vow of poverty, and to multiply 
observances, to make religion a 
matter of rite and ceremonial, to 
substitute bondage for freedom. 
At Bologna he found that a monas- 
tery had been built and had become 
the property of the Order. He com- 
manded that it should at once be 
given up, and even the sick should 
be moved from it. The main dif- 
ference between the Rule of St. 
Francis and that of other orders 
was in regard to the possession of 
property. Other orders were under 
the vow of poverty, but it applied 
only to the individual members ; the 
order itself could hold possessions 

104 



The Suffering Servant 

and become rich. Francis had seen 
the evil which resulted from this. 
It was no madness or fanaticism, 
but a far-reaching statesmanship, by 
which he made it a characteristic 
feature of his Rule that the posses- 
sion of property, whether by the 
individual members or the Order, 
was absolutely forbidden. He saw 
that if this principle were violated 
the Brothers Minor would degener- 
ate into one of a number of monastic 
orders, whose members constituted a 
kind of religious aristocracy, living 
in ease and luxury and seclusion 
from the service of the world. 

As the Order grew some com- 
plained because it was not like the 
other orders, with fine abbeys and 
large revenues. The authorities at 
Rome were continually urging the 



St. Francis of Assisi 

propriety of possessing religious 
houses and lands. A party sprang 
up within the Order which was con- 
tinually pressing upon him the need 
of accepting that which he regarded, 
and rightly regarded, as the sequel 
shows, to be a snare of the devil. 
This prospect filled him with sor- 
row during the rest of his life. He 
knew what would happen, and what 
exactly did happen, if the order ac- 
cepted gifts of lands and houses and 
estates; that poverty, self-sacrifice, 
humility, love, with their living, un- 
answerable appeal, would be chased 
away, and the power would be gone. 
This was the cross he had to bear, 
to see his beautiful vision realised 
only to be lost. In spite of the 
efforts of his biographers to throw 
a veil over it, his anguish constantly 

1 06 



The Suffering Servant 

appears. " The time will come," he 
said once, " when our order will 
have so lost its good renown that the 
members will be ashamed to show 
themselves by daylight." Again, to- 
ward the end of his life, he said, 
"We must begin again to create a 
new family, which will not forget 
humility, which will go and tend 
the lepers as of old, which will, not 
only in word but in deed, set itself 
beneath its fellow creatures." His 
last will and testament is a most 
touching document From the of- 
ficial lives it was always omitted, 
but in the recently discovered " Mir- 
ror of Perfection," written by Brother 
Leo within a year of the saint's 
death the mind of St. Francis is 
revealed to us, and the whole spirit 
of it is a kind of heart-breaking 

107 



St. Francis of Assisi 

groan that his great ideal had been 
spoilt for him. 

A dream that he once had came 
back to him, in which he had seen a 
little black hen, which in spite of her 
efforts was not able to spread her 
wings over her brood. The poor 
little hen was himself, and the 
chickens were the Brethren. About 
this time the Pope issued a bull com- 
manding all who entered the Order 
to undergo a year's novitiate, none 
to leave it during life, and all wear- 
ing the habit to exercise implicit 
obedience to the Church. The 
strong hand was laid upon it, never 
to let go ; the freedom and simplicity 
were forever gone. Henceforth it 
was impossible for St. Francis to re- 
main at the head of it. Discouraged 
and heartsick, he felt that the admin- 

io8 



The Suffering Servant 

istration of the Order needed a dif- 
ferent character from himself. He 
was so submissive, so humble, so 
obedient that he never thought of 
asserting his own will against that of 
the Pope, the Vicar of Christ; but 
his vision became obscured, he began 
to waver and almost to doubt him- 
self and his mission. Such doubts 
come to the noblest spirits in times 
of weakness and discouragement. 
He searched himself anxiously to see 
if there had not been some self-com- 
placency in his work. He resolved 
to put the direction into the hands of 
another, and he chose Pietro di Ca- 
tana. " From henceforth," he said to 
the Brothers, " I am dead to you, but 
here is Brother Peter, whom you and 
I will obey." The Brothers could not 
restrain their tears when they saw 

109 



St, Francis of Assisi 

themselves become in some sort 
orphans, and Francis, raising his eyes 
and clasping his hands, prayed: 
" Lord, I return unto Thee this Thy 
family, confided unto me. Now, as 
thou knowest, most sweet Jesus, I 
have no longer strength nor ability 
to keep on caring for them. I con- 
fide them therefore to the ministers. 
May they be responsible before Thee 
at the Day of Judgment if any 
Brother by their neglect or bad ex- 
ample or by a too severe discipline 
ever wanders away." Pietro died a 
few months after, and Brother Elias 
became the vicar-general. 

Elias was one of the very earliest 
members of the Brotherhood, a friend 
whom Francis loved and trusted with 
his whole heart. He seems to have 
been a man of high character and 

no 



The Suffering Servant 

great administrative ability, but also 
of great ambition, not of a personal 
kind, but for the future of the Order. 
He had come to regard the idea of 
Francis as impractical and impossible 
for the guidance of a great organisa- 
tion. He cleverly contrived, without 
openly violating the Rule, or oppos- 
ing the wishes of Francis, to bring 
about a very different condition of 
affairs. Italy and the other countries 
were divided into provinces, each 
having its own provincial officers. It 
was necessary that these officers 
should have official residences and 
subordinates, convents and churches, 
and all the dignity of officials in other 
orders. The Brothers entered the 
families of high personages of the 
papal court, became their confidential 
attendants, courtiers, intriguing for 

III 



St. Francis of Assisi 

the wealth and power of the Order, 
The changes were made either with- 
out the knowledge or against the will 
of Francis. His last years were a 
perpetual protest against them, but 
he had no power with which to op- 
pose them save his teaching and ex- 
ample. This was consistent to the 
end. One day he was the guest of 
Cardinal Ugolini. When they were 
about to sit down to dinner the other 
guests were surprised to see him 
come in with his hands full of pieces 
of dry bread which he proceeded to 
distribute to the noble company. 
His host began to reproach him, but 
Francis explained that he had no 
right to forget for a sumptuous feast 
the bread of charity on which he was 
fed every day, and that he desired to 
show his brethren that the richest 

112 



The Suffering Servant 

table was not worth so much to the 
poor in spirit as this table of the 
Lord. 

But the end was drawing near. A 
life of such hardship and self-denial 
with such constant strain on mind 
and heart could not be a long life. 
In mezzo del cammin di questa vita^ 
as Dante says, in the middle of the 
way of this life, when he was but 
forty-four years of age, he was called 
to his rest. He was preaching near 
Foligno, when in some way the 
warning came to him that the end 
was not far off. He retired with 
four of the Brothers to Verna, a 
rugged mountain peak near the bor- 
ders of Tuscany, to prepare by prayer 
and meditation for death. They 
built there a little hut of boughs as 
in the old days. Here he was more 

8 113 



St. Francis of Assisi 

than ever absorbed in the thought of 
the crucified Christ, the Man of sor- 
rows. He grieved that he had not 
been found worthy of martyrdom, 
that he had not been able to give 
himself more completely for One 
who had completely given Himself 
for him. He often remained for 
many hours at the foot of the altar 
reading the Gospels, and the Book 
always opened of itself at the story 
of the Passion. On the night of 
Sept. 14, 1224, he spent the whole 
night in prayer, and in the morning 
he had a vision. He saw, so the 
story goes, a great light, and in the 
midst of the light a seraph nailed to 
a cross, who looked upon him with a 
look of tender love. He continued 
for a long time in a kind of trance 
of absorbed contemplation. When 

114 



The Suffering Servant 

the vision faded he found on his 
body marks corresponding to the 
five wounds of our Lord, dark ex- 
crescences on his feet and hands like 
the heads of nails, and a red mark 
on his side, from which a little blood 
occasionally exuded. 

It is a strange story, but not nec- 
essarily incredible. The domain of 
mental pathology is still largely an 
unexplored field. The influence of 
the mind upon the body is very 
imperfectly understood. In a single 
night men's hair has been known to 
turn gray under the influence of in- 
tense emotion. Physically it is not 
impossible that such constant con- 
centration of mind on the subject 
of the Saviour's sufferings, with an 
intense desire to suffer for Him and 
with Him, may have had such an 

IIS 



St. Francis of Assisi 

effect on his body. However the 
story may have been embellished by 
later legendary details, the weight of 
evidence is strongly in favour of it; 
it rests on contemporary testimony 
of the strongest kind. His three 
early biographers write of it with 
the precision of eye-witnesses. At 
the General Chapter at Geneva 
shortly after his death, one of his 
companions, when questioned by the 
general of the Order, said : " These 
sinful eyes have seen them, these 
sinful hands have touched them." 
The marks are said to have been seen 
by more than seven hundred persons. 
After weighing the probabilities 
against it, and the evidence for it, I 
am inclined personally to believe 
that something of the kind actually 
took place. 

ii6 



The Suffering Servant 

After the vision of the stigmata 
Francis was affected with a disease 
that threatened him with bhndness. 
He sought the aid of a physician at 
Rieti who was celebrated for his 
skill. According to the imperfect 
science of the time the remedies 
were very painful, consisting chiefly 
of bleeding and cauterising. A red- 
hot iron was drawn across his brow, 
and the inflammation encouraged 
and increased by continual incisions 
causing great suffering. Eager to 
continue his labours he preached 
whenever it was possible in the 
neighbouring districts, and made 
several missionary journeys. He 
was obliged to ride on an ass, for he 
was no longer able, as was always 
his custom, to travel on foot. Wher- 
ever he went the people received 

117 



St. Francis of Assisi 

him with the utmost enthusiasm ; he 
had completel)?' gained their hearts. 
They believed in him and loved him. 
His sermons were necessarily short, 
but more impressive than ever, worn 
as he was with illness, emaciated, 
feeble, his voice weak, but his face 
more beautiful than ever in its ex- 
treme pallor, and its usual expression 
of strength and tenderness deepened 
by the marks of suffering. 

Dropsy was now added to his 
other afflictions and the thin limbs 
were terribly swollen. He suffered 
also from hemorrhages reducing him 
to extreme prostration. St. Bona- 
ventura writes : " He began to suffer 
from so many infirmities that there 
was scarcely one of his members 
but was tormented with incessant 

pain." 

ii8 



The Suffering Servant 

He wanted to die at Assisi, with 
its many tender memories. The 
journey lay through Perugia, but 
they were afraid to take that way 
lest the citizens would compel him 
to remain, that the town might have 
the prestige of his death. By a cir- 
cuitous way, under a strong escort, 
he reached Assisi at last. He was 
received with the subdued rejoicing 
of those who loved him, but knew 
they could not have him long. He 
was taken into the Bishop s palace, 
where he had every tender care. But 
the journey had been too much for 
him and he grew rapidly worse. 
Every movement was accompanied 
by intense pain, yet his sweet 
patience and cheerfulness never 
failed him. He always spoke of pain 

and death as his dear sisters, and he 

119 



St. Francis of Assisi 

was always asking for singing to up- 
lift his mind above his troubles. 
Greater than any suffering of body 
was his grief over the decadence and 
loss of purity in his Order, mingled 
with self-reproaches for his own 
cowardice. Why had he deserted his 
post and given up the direction of 
his family ? " Where," he would cry, 
"are they who have ravished my 
brethren from me, who have stolen 
away my family ? " Shattered as he 
was, he would try to rise from the 
bed saying : " Ah, if I could only go 
again to the Chapter General I 
would show what my will is." 

Forgetful of his own sufferings 
he thought with divine sadness 
of humanity, for each member of 
which he would give his life, and 
he dictated a letter to all the mem- 

I20 



The Suffering Servant 

bars of the Order to be read at the 
opening of the Chapters : — 

" To all the revered and well-be- 
loved Brothers Minor, the oldest and 
the most recent, Brother Francis, a 
mean and perishing man, your little 
servant, gives greeting. God has 
sent you through all the world that 
by your words and example you may 
bear witness of Him, and that you 
may teach all men that he alone is 
all-powerf uL Persevere in discipline 
and obedience, and with an honest 
and firm will keep that which you 
have promised. . . . Keep nothing 
for yourselves that He may receive 
you without reserve who has given 
Himself to you without reserve. Let 
us not be wise and learned according 
to the flesh, but simple, humble, and 
pure. We should never desire to 

121 



St. Francis of AssisI 

be above others, but rather to be 
below, and to obey all men. 

" To all Christians, monks, clerics, 
or laymen, whether men or women, 
to all who dwell in the whole world, 
Brother Francis, their most submis- 
sive servitor, presents his duty, and 
wishes the true peace of heaven, 
and sincere love of the Lord. 

" Being the servitor of all men, I 
am bound to serve them and to 
dispense to them the wholesome 
words of my Master. This is why, 
seeing I am too weak and ill to visit 
each one of you in particular, I have 
resolved to send you my message 
by this letter, and to offer you the 
words of our Lord Jesus Christ, the 
Word of God, and of the Holy 
Spirit, which are spirit and life. . . . 

*'I, Brother Francis, your little 

122 



The Suffering Servant 

servitor, I beg and conjure you by 
the love that is in God, ready to kiss 
your feet, to receive with humility 
and love these, and all other words of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, and to con- 
form your conduct to them. And 
let those who receive them and 
understand them pass them on to 
others. And if they thus persevere 
unto the end, may they be blessed 
by the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Spirit. Amen." 

Death was now near. He wanted 
to be carried to Portiuncula, and to 
die beside the humble chapel where 
he had heard God's voice calling 
him to his work. They carried him 
down the hill in a litter. When 
half-way they reached the hospital, 
where long ago he had first tended 
the lepers. He asked to be set down 

123 



St* Francis of Assisi 

on the ground with his face to 
Assisi, and raising his hand he bade 
farewell to his native place and 
blessed it. To be back once more 
at Portiuncula was a great joy to 
him. His last days were full of 
happiness. " He went to meet death 
singing," says Thomas of Celano. 

He desired to see those whom he 
loved one by one, and to bless them. 
They knelt round his bed and his 
right hand rested on the head of 
Brother Elias. "Whom does my 
hand touch ? " he asked, for the poor 
blind eyes could not see. They told 
him it was Elias. *' That is well, my 
son, I bless thee in all and for all ; I 
bless thee as much and more than I 
can ; may He who can do all supply 
what I cannot do. Farewell, dear 
sons, keep the fear of God, abide 

124 



The Suffering Servant 

ever in Jesus Christ. Evil days 
draw on. You will pass through 
terrible trial. Many will fall away 
through scandals. Blessed are they 
who persevere. I go to God. I 
have served Him with all my soul. 
I leave this world in the fulness of 
trust. May His grace abide with 
you." 

Just before his death a touching 
incident took place. He had never 
been ordained to the priesthood and 
he could not consecrate the Sacra- 
ment, but he sent for bread and 
blessed it, and gave a piece to each, 
and they ate together in memory of 
the body that was broken for them. 
Then he asked them to read to him 
once more the story of the Passion 
as written in St. John s Gospel, be- 
ginning with the words, " Now be- 



St. Francis of Assisi 

fore the feast of the passover, when 
Jesus knew that his hour was come 
that he should depart out of this 
world, unto the Father, having loved 
his own which were in the world 
he loved them unto the end." On 
Saturday, Oct. 3, 1226, without 
struggle or sigh he entered into his 
rest. 

He was buried in the little church 
of St. Mary of the Portiuncula, where 
two years later, Pope Gregory IX. 
came to lay the cornerstone of the 
great church erected to his memory. 
There are three churches one above 
another. In the crypt lies the body 
of the saint. In the middle building 
is intact the little church where he 
first heard the call of God, and which 
he repaired with his own hands. 
Close by the little church, under the 

126 



The Suffering Servant 

dome of the great basilica, is the 
cabin in which he died, and just out- 
side the wall is the cell in which he 
first lived. It is vast, gloomy, pre- 
tentious, oppressive, like a mauso- 
leum of something that has died and 
vanished, seeming to tell how the 
great Roman system seized the 
beautiful ideal of St. Francis and pre- 
tending to admire it, appropriated, 
exploited, debased it, and then turned 
it to its own account, changing a 
great enthusiasm for men into a 
power of spiritual domination. As 
we look at the little chapel and cabin 
and cell, and then at the great church, 
rich, powerful, pretentious, we feel the 
immense gulf which separated the 
ideal of St Francis from the Church 
that canonised him. Christ made 

the saint ; the Church buried him. 

127 



VI 

SUCCESS AND FAILURE 

The life of St. Francis is a great en- 
couragement to our Christian faith. 
It is a manifestation of the power of 
Christ at work in the thirteenth cen- 
tury as well as in the first. It has 
been said " It takes a Jesus to forge 
a Jesus," meaning that the life and 
character of Christ are so far beyond 
human invention that, as Rousseau 
says, "the inventor would be a 
greater wonder than the hero." So 
it may be said that it takes a Christ 
to make a St. Francis. The reality 
and power of his life prove the 

9 129 



St. Francis of Assisi 

reality of the power behind it, and 
of that reality there is no reasonable 
room for doubt- The same process 
of historical criticism, which has es- 
tablished beyond sceptical denial the 
reality of the life of Christ, has estab- 
lished with something of the same 
certainty the reality of St. Francis' 
life. It was beyond the invention 
of the times. It was in opposition 
to all the ideals of the age. It was 
one long struggle with the Church, 
and not until the Church had spoiled 
his ideal and ruined his work did it 
consent to canonise him as a saint. 

Where imagination and fiction 
have touched the life of Jesus it can 
easily be recognised, as in the Apoc- 
ryphal Gospels. Imagination and 
fiction have also surrounded the life 

of St. Francis with the legendary and 

130 



Success and Failure 

the miraculous, but in the main the 
fiction can easily be sifted from the 
reality. That some things regarded 
as miraculous occurred is not incred- 
ible, it is even probable. If his life 
was the closest following of Christ 
since the days of the Apostles it is not 
surprising if something of the power 
of Christ and the works of Christ was 
manifest in him. If he fulfilled the 
conditions of Christ's promises why 
should it be incredible to Christians 
that those promises were fulfilled in 
him ? But his miracles, like those of 
Christ, were all works of love; the 
greater part of them were the healing 
of those nervous disorders and mal- 
adies so common in his time. Some 
of them are clearly legendary, but 
some come to us on such high author- 
ity, and rest upon such strong evi- 

131 



St. Francis of Assisi 

dence as to carry with them at least 
a reasonable probability. 

His character was so far in advance 
of his age, and even of our own age, 
that it cannot be in any great degree 
the work of invention. He is often 
thought of as a sweet, sympathetic, 
child-like character, lovable but vision- 
ary and unpractical. Such a view of 
him is quite insufficient He was a 
man of keen intelligence strong intel- 
lectual powers, large common-sense. 
He was an enthusiast, but not unbal- 
anced; intense, not narrow and pe- 
dantic ; severe toward himself, always 
inclined to mitigate the severity of 
others. He said once : " We must use 
discretion in the treatment of our 
brother the body if we do desire to ex- 
cite in us a tempest of sadness. Let us 
frankly remove from it any cause of 

132 



Success and Failure 

complaint and then it will accept our 
vigils and lend itself to our prayers." 
Eccentricity and exaggeration for 
their own sake were hateful to him. 
He was absolutely sincere. No sort 
of pretence could find place in his 
strong, simple nature. If there was 
any exaggeration it was in the desire 
never to appear other than he actually 
was. Once when he was ill a 
Brother, seeing that in the cold of 
winter he had nothing on but a 
patched tunic, got a piece of fox-skin 
and brought it to him. " My father," 
he said, " you suffer from your liver 
and your stomach ; let me sew this 
skin under your tunic." St. Francis 
answered : '' I accept what you wish, 
but you must sew as large a piece 
outside, that the brethren may know 
that I allow myself this comfort." 

133 



St. Francis of Assisi 

He was a man of great refinement, 
both of character and manner. He 
was no recluse, unacquainted with the 
evils of the world, but his delicate 
refinement of spirit enabled him to 
throw them off so that they did not 
enter his soul. His appearance and 
manners were those of a poHshed 
gentleman, and much of his extraor- 
dinary power came from his grace- 
ful and unfailing courtesy. St. 
Bonaventura speaks of his '' exquisite 
sweetness, his perfect manner, his 
bright temper, his generosity which 
gave without ever counting the loss." 
Of more than medium height, his 
face was oval, his eyes dark and clear, 
his hair thick, his nose straight and 
delicate, his teeth white and equal, a 
black beard not thickly grown, square 
shoulders, small hands and feet. 

134 



Success and Failure 

There was about his whole person a 
charm and grace that made him 
exceedingly lovely. All these char- 
acteristics are found in the most 
ancient portraits. 

He had an iron will, indomitable 
courage and constancy, combined 
with a wonderful meekness and hu- 
mility. Men of strong will are 
often hard and masterful, but in St. 
Francis firmness was combined with 
sweetness ; an inflexible purpose with 
great gentleness of execution; a high 
ideal with a large charity ; a horror 
of sin with unfailing mercy for the 
sinner. His love for men knew no 
limits. In every one he saw one for 
whom Christ died, and for whom he 
was willing to die. There was noth- 
ing he was not willing to do for the 
weakest and the worst. To the sick 

135 



St, Francis of Assisi 

and the sorrowful he was tender as a 
mother; but it was the poor who 
especially claimed his heart In 
every poor man he saw an image of 
Christ, and a possible reflection of 
Christ. Everything that interested 
his fellow men interested him — the 
aspirations of the people, their strug- 
gles for freedom, their literature, 
their song, their amusements, the 
trials of their daily lives moved his 
ever ready sympathy. Perhaps no 
other man, unless it were St. Paul, 
ever had such a wide-reaching, all- 
embracing sympathy; and it may 
have been even wider than St. Paul's, 
for we have no evidence in him of 
a love for nature and for animals. 

The love of St. Francis extended 
to all God's creatures. Brave as he 
was and prepared to endure any suf- 

136 



Success and Failure 

^faring himself, he could not bear to 
see dumb animals in pain. The 
beasts, the birds, the flowers, the sun 
and moon, he always spoke of as his 
brothers and sisters. There is a 
charming story of the swallows, 
which is one of the most familiar 
stories of his life. Once when he 
was preaching he could not make 
himself heard for the twittering of 
the swallows about him, and turning 
to them, he said, " It is my turn to 
speak now, little sister swallows. 
Hearken to the Word of God, and 
be quiet till I have finished." Of 
course the story goes on to say that 
they were immediately still and lis- 
tened with great attentiveness to his 
sermon. Once he saw a rabbit 
caught in a trap. " Come to me, 
little brother," he said, and took it 

137 



St. Francis of Assisi 

in his arms and released it. At 
Christmas he always wanted corn 
spread in the lanes and the fields 
that the cattle and the birds might 
share in the Christmas joy. He 
loved and cultivated flowers, and 
wherever the Brothers found a rest- 
ing place they were required to cul- 
tivate a little place for flowers. This 
feeling for nature and for animals 
was much more unusual then than 
it is now, and more unusual in the 
Southern than in the Northern 
nations. 

Love to St. Francis was religion, 
and religion was the expression of 
love. His love found its inspiration 
in the love of Christ, and extended 
to everything that belonged to 
Christ. For Christ himself that 
love was beyond all words; it 

138 



Success and Failure 

filled all the capacities of his be- 
ing. A deep, tender, personal devo- 
tion to the Crucified was the most 
characteristic feature of his life. He 
realised as few have done the mean- 
ing, the sorrow, the tender, awful 
solemnity of the Cross. In every- 
thing he saw Christ and loved Him. 
There was nothing forced or slavish 
in his imitation of Christ ; it was 
the perfectly spontaneous outflow of 
his heart. His life was the response 
to the gracious call, " Follow me." 
St. Bonaventura says : " His heart 
was a perfect instrument tuned to 
the love of God. As soon as the 
words *the love of God' touched 
it, as a violin responds to the 
bow, every chord within it vibrated." 
And again: "Jesus was all things to 
him ; Jesus was on his lips, his eyes, 

139 



St. Francis of Assisi 

his ears, his hands, in his whole 
being." 

This was the source of his great 
joy. There was nothing gloomy or 
morose about his asceticism and 
poverty. His religion was one of 
joyousness. He had a horror of 
sadness. He regarded mirth and 
gladness as Christian duties. Never 
was a soul more filled with peniten- 
tial sorrow, but the sunshine of God's 
love was always gleaming through it. 
He was always breaking out into 
song, especially the songs of the 
Troubadours, which he never ceased 
to love. Sometimes he would ac- 
company himself on two sticks which 
he used as an imaginary violin. He 
saw, none more clearly, the darkness 
the misery, the sin of the world ; still 

there was so much to be thankful 

140 



Success and Failure 

for, so much in men that he could 
admire and believe in, that he could 
not be sad. " My brother," he said 
to one of the Brothers who came to 
him with a gloomy face, " if thou hast 
some fault to mourn over, do it in 
thy cell, but here with thy brethren 
be as they are in countenance and 
tone."' Nothing could empty his 
soul of its satisfaction in God. All 
life, all the world was but an oppor- 
tunity to serve Him who was the joy 
of his life. Giving up all things, he 
gained all things ; losing his life for 
Christ's sake, he found it. 

The life of St. Francis is also a 
manifestation of the power of God 
working through man as well as in 
man ; he is an example not only of 
what God can make of a sinful man 
like ourselves, but of what God can 

141 



St, Francis of Assisi 

do through one who in complete 
self-surrender yields himself to the 
divine will. Mr. Moody, at the be- 
ginning of his career, was walking 
one day in Phoenix park, Dublin, 
and heard two men talking behind 
him. He did not know them, nor 
they him ; it' was a chance remark 
that fell from one of them. He said : 
" The world does not yet know what 
God can do through a fully conse- 
crated man." It made a deep im- 
pression upon him and his whole 
life became an illustration of what 
God can do through a man truly con- 
secrated to his service. St. Francis 
was a still more remarkable illustra- 
tion of the same truth. Without 
learning or eloquence or wealth or 
rank he brought about one of the 
greatest religious revolutions and 

142 



Success and Failure 

revivals that the world has ever 
known, and lifted the world a little 
nearer to God. 

The monastic orders of his time 
were wealthy, aristocratic, cultured, 
exclusive, separate from the life of the 
people, shut up in convents, seeking 
their own spiritual welfare. St. Fran- 
cis, filled with the love of Christ and 
following in the steps of Christ, went 
to the common people, who heard 
him gladly and received him with joy. 
He made religion popular, extending 
it beyond the confines of the clois- 
ter. In a day when to be religious 
meant to be a member of a monastic 
order, he brought home religion to 
the hearts of men and women in the 
world, and showed them that it was 
meant for them. He taught laymen 
that Christianity had a mission for 

143 



St. Francis of Assisi 

them, especially to the poor. Mat- 
thew Arnold, a critic free from reli- 
gious enthusiasm, says: "It was a 
profound instinct which enabled 
Francis more than any man since the 
primitive age to fit religion for popu- 
lar use. He brought religion to the 
people. He founded the most popu- 
lar body of ministers of religion that 
has ever existed in the Church. He 
transformed monachism by uproot- 
ing the stationary monk, delivering 
him from the bondage of property 
and sending him as a mendicant friar 
to be a stranger and sojourner, not in 
the wilderness, but in the most 
crowded haunts of men, to console 
them and do them good." 

And Machiavelli, astute, cynical, 
worldly, declares in one of his dis- 
courses that Christianity would have 

144 



Success and Failure 

been almost extinct " if Francis and 
Dominic had not renewed it and re- 
placed it in the hearts of men by 
poverty and the example of Jesus 
Christ." 

The friars in the early years of 
the Order were unlettered, simple- 
minded men, full of enthusiasm and 
self-sacrifice, popular preachers, ex- 
horting men to follow Christ, and 
themselves practising what they 
preached. They spread rapidly 
throughout Christendom. In 1224, 
two years before the death of Francis, 
they landed in England, a little band 
of nine persons. Dr. Jessup, in The 
Coming of the Friars^ describes their 
beginnings : " Outside the city walls 
of Lynn, York, Bristol, in a filthy 
swamp at Norwich, in a mere barn- 
like structure with walls of mud at 



St, Francis of Assisi 

Shrewsbury, in * Stinking Lane ' at 
London, the Minorites took up their 
abode, and there they lived on char- 
ity, doing for the lowest the most 
menial offices, speaking to the poor- 
est the words of hope, preaching to 
learned and simple such sermons — 
short, homely, fervent, emotional — 
as the world had not heard for many 
a day." Within five years of their 
landing they had houses in all the 
chief towns of England. In 1264 
they are said to have possessed eight 
thousand cloisters and two hundred 
thousand members. 

Their work was not confined to 
Christendom; it extended over the 
world. As early as 1258 a bull of 
Alexander IV. is addressed to the 
friars among the Saracens, Pagans, 
Greeks, Bulgarians, Cumans, Ethi- 

146 



Success and Failure 

opians, Syrians, Iberians, Alans, 
Cathari, Goths, Zichori, Russians, 
Jacobites, Nubians, Nestorians, 
Georgians, Armenians, Indians, 
Muscovites, Tartars, Hungarians, 
also those labouring among the 
Christians captured by the Turks. 
This is not a geographical enumera- 
tion, but a witness to the great zeal 
of the order. In 1289 two of them 
in China had built a Church at Pekin 
with a dome and bells : they had one 
hundred and fifty boys in their school 
and five thousand converts. They 
aided Columbus in preparing his ex- 
pedition, and at Hayti the Francis- 
cans opened the first church for reli- 
gious service in the New World. 

If the followers of St. Francis had 
been true to his ideal and instructions, 
they might have saved the world. 

147 



St. Francis of Assisi 

In so far as they were true they gave 
to religion a new momentum which 
lasted for more than a century and 
which has never been wholly lost. 
The rock of shipwreck was the 
possession of property. With divine 
wisdom St. Francis warned his disci- 
ples, as Christ also had done, of the 
evils and dangers of riches, of the 
power and advantages of poverty. 
Experience vindicated his teaching. 
The primitive Church in its poverty 
conquered the world ; in its alliance 
with wealth it succumbed to the 
world. The same was true of the 
Franciscan movement. As early as 
1230 some in the Order sought from 
the Pope an interpretation of the 
Rule of Francis. Gregory IX. issued 
a bill declaring that St. Francis 
could not bind his successors; that 

148 



Success and Failure 

the agents of the Order could re- 
ceive money and hold property for 
the use of the Brotherhood. This 
decision was marked by a relaxation 
in the vow of poverty and the begin- 
ning of a decadence in character and 
power. The duties that had been 
rendered for love were now per- 
formed for money, and money be- 
came the ruling passion. The friars 
were not only permitted to preach 
but to hear confession, to baptise, to 
bury, to grant indulgences; every- 
thing had its price and had to be 
paid for. In 1257 St. Bonaventura, 
then General of the Order laments 
that the Brotherhood had become 
an object of popular dislike on ac- 
count of its greed, idleness, worldli- 
ness, and scandalous conduct. 

The love of money proved indeed 
149 



St, Francis of Assisi 

" the root of all evil," and covetous- 
ness opened the door to lust. The 
darkest page in the story of the 
friars is their licentiousness. Bona- 
ventura in his many warnings shows 
the extent and gravity of the evil. 
Erasmus says: "They demand ad- 
mission into private houses, they 
come and go as they please, and the 
owner does not dare refuse. Men 
must take a stranger into their fami- 
lies, and the secrets of the household 
are exposed to the world. Wise 
men know that in such a multitude 
all are not pure, and that monks are 
made of flesh as other men." 

All were certainly not pure, but all 
were not faithless. During the hor- 
rors of the Black Death in Europe 
none were so devoted as the friars, 
everywhere acting as ministers of 

ISO 



Success and Failure 

mercy while the parish priests fled 
from their posts. Not less than 150, 
000 of them perished in their zeal 
for the sick and dying. Two cen- 
turies later in the plague of 1528 the 
Franciscans showed that they had 
not forgotten the traditions of their 
Order; and in every age, while many 
have soiled its fame by their sin, 
some have proved themselves worthy 
of their founder. 

It was a great idea, one of the 
divinest ever cherished in a human 
soul, beautifully embodied in St. 
Francis, but too high, too pure, too 
heavenly for those who came after 
him. It failed, and yet it did not 
wholly fail. The world was not 
saved by it, but the world was the 
better for it, and has never quite 
gone back to the conditions which 

151 



St. Francis of Assisi 

prevailed before St Francis came. 
No high ideal, no true and noble 
life, no faithful work for God has 
ever failed. The outward results 
may not have been permanent, but 
the inspiration has never been 
wholly lost. For seven hundred 
years, notwithstanding the failure of 
his followers, the life of St. Francis 
has been a power for good in the 
world, and Christ has seemed nearer. 
His example more possible. His teach- 
ings more practicable, because of 
this life which is but a far-off echo, 
a poor blurred copy of the one per- 
fect life on earth. 

Its inspiration has not yet been 
lost. On the contrary, after seven 
hundred years it is growing stronger. 
The day will come — it is nearer 
than we think — when the seed sown 



Success and Failure 

so long ago will bear new fruit, and 
some soul quickened by his example, 
strengthened by his spirit, will rise 
up in his likeness, and avoiding his 
mistakes, will take Christ at his word, 
will let Christ do with him what He 
will and carry him where He would 
have him go, in whom and through 
whom Christ will manifest His power 
in the twentieth as in the thirteenth 
century. He will stir society to its 
depths. The noblest spirits who are 
looking for their true leader will leap 
forward to follow him. A new order 
of Brothers Minor will gather about 
him. They will have no name, they 
will wear no garb, they will bear no 
badge, but they will be clothed with 
the ornament of a meek and quiet 
spirit. They will have no Prior or 
Vicar General, but will be directly 

153 



St. Francis of Assisi 

under the Rule of Christ. " For one is 
your Master, and all ye are brethren." 
They will reverence the Church and 
be loyal to the Church, but they will 
not be in bondage to any great ec- 
clesiastical organisation. They will 
be Brothers Minor, not in name but 
in spirit, regarding themselves as 
"less than the least of all saints," 
ignoring the endless social distinc- 
tions that separate men, not striv- 
ing for the highest places in the 
social scale, but taking the lowest 
room, anxious to serve rather than 
to rule. " For I am among you as 
he that serveth." 

They will regard their possessions, 
whether great or small, whether prop- 
erty or personal gifts, as belonging 
not to themselves, but to God, in- 
trusted to them to use for Him. 

154 



Success and Failure 

They will not wildly distribute their 
goods to the poor, nor give up their 
property to other men, but keep it 
for God. They will not speak so 
much of giving as of using. It is 
always easier to give up than to use 
wisely and well. When the rich 
man comes to join the Order it 
will not be said to him : " Go sell 
all that thou hast and give to the 
poor," but that which is still harder : 
" Keep all thou hast for God, and 
use it all for Him." When the 
scholar comes he will not be told 
that books are worthless and knowl- 
edge is nothing, but to get all the 
knowledge that he can, to enrich his 
mind and increase his power, that 
he may have the more to give to 
God and to use in the service of 
men. When the politician comes 

155 



St. Francis of Assisi 

he will not be asked to leave his 
place and go about preaching the 
Gospel, but to use his political influ- 
ence, his knowledge of social condi- 
tions, his power in the community 
only for the good of men. And 
women will not be required to turn 
their backs on society and shut 
themselves up like St. Clara and the 
poor Clares, but to use all their 
womanly power and influence for the 
purifying and elevating of society. 

It will be an Order oi personal ser- 
vice; each will use his gifts and oppor- 
tunities himself, not by deputy or 
minister through Church or charity 
organisation. The essence of St. 
Francis' Rule was that it was per- 
sonal. The lepers were to be tended 
by their own hands, the poor served, 
the Gospel preached, the life lived, 

156 



Success and Failure 

by themselves, not by some one else. 
The weakness of our Christian ser- 
vice to-day is, that in the multiplicity 
of organisations the power of person- 
ality is largely lost ; it is not the hand 
that helps, but the machine ; and the 
giving of money, which is easy, takes 
the place of personal service, which 
is difficult. 

It will be a great Order, not in a 
mediaeval but a spiritual sense; a 
great Order of spiritual men and 
women consecrated to God, following 
in the steps of Christ, spreading 
through all ranks of society from the 
top to the bottom, and in every 
operation of social life breathing the 
spirit of faith and hope and love. Its 
inspiration will be the love of Christ, 
its glory the Cross of Christ, its am- 
bition to bear that Cross and to 

157 



St. Francis of Assisi 

manifest that love throughout the 
whole world. And it will not fail. 
Stat crux dum volvitur orbis. While 
the cross stands those who embrace 
it in the arms of their faith and love 
will not fail nor fall. The Brothers 
Minor will be the Brethren of the 
Lord. " For whosoever shall do the 
will of God, the same is my brother 
and my sister and mother." 



158 



"^^.^2 7 



190 



APH. 5 



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